The Greatest Gift
by DeamonFruba
Summary: I want to be the Mulder to your Scully... Booth asks Brennan on a date. Is it possible for the two of them to be able to hold a real relationship? And is just a simple relation enough for them or will they need more? Semperance with a backstory of Hodgela
1. Mulder To Your Scully

**Note: This is the edited version of the first chapter. Times and stuff have been changed for sake of the future story plot but it still remains the same. No others beyond this point have been edited so please excuse time mistakes in the next couple. I am working to sift through and change it but it is a little harder than would be expected. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the TV show 'Bones.' If I did then I would not be suffering with questions of what happens this season.**

**Summary: Love is the greatest gift in life that we can ever ask for. When we find that special someone that we are willing to spend the rest of our lives with everything else has a habit of just fading away.**

**Chapter: The First Date**

**Rating: This one is a very mild chapter. The story is currently rated T but that is subject to change if the characters decide to act up. **

**Pairings: Mainly Booth/Bones but there will be some Hodgela involoved. Yay!**

_- - -_

_We need not think alike to love alike. - Francis David_

- - -

"I want to be the Mulder to your Scully."

"I don't know what that means, Booth."

Special Agent Seeley Booth chuckled softly. He had known she wouldn't know what he was talking about; had counted on it. "How about this," he rested his hands on the car roof and looked down at the woman sitting in the seat. "How about I come over around seven and I take you out to dinner. Not Wong Fu's but someplace nice." He bit back the laugh that threatened to escape when her blue eyes widened in shock.

"Why?" Temperance Brennan cocked her head in confusion.

Booth shrugged. "Do I really need a reason to take you out to dinner? Besides, I haven't taken you anywhere nice in…ever, actually. Come on." He widened his smile into what she often referred to as his 'charm smile'. "What can a little dinner harm?"

Brennan bit her lip and looked away to stare out her windshield. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel and Booth could see from the way that her eyes darted back and forth that she was thinking hard. He tried to keep his smile calm as his heart beat hard against his rib cage. Finally, after what seemed to Booth like an eternity and a half, her hands loosened and she looked up at him.

"What time?"

Booth felt his smile widen in relief. "I'll pick you up around seven-thirty. Is that OK?"

Sh nodded slowly, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. "Yes. I'll see you then." And she turned the key in the ignition before giving Booth one last glance and pulling out of her parking space. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and feel it in the back of her throat as she reached over and pushed a button on the dashboard. She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat as the sounds of smooth jazz filled the car. When she was a few blocks away and at a standstill in the typical DC traffic, she reached for her phone and pushed the number two down, holding it until a dial-tone sounded. It rang three times when the line clicked.

"Hello?" Angela's voice on the other end sounded slightly frazzled.

"Hey, Ange, it's Brennan. What's wrong?" Brennan said as she eased the car forward a couple feet.

"Hey, Sweetie. Nothing's wrong. I just got off the phone with Jack. He asked again if I would grace him with my presence at dinner tonight."

Brennan's eyes widened. "And what did you say?"

"Oh, sweetie, I don't know why but I said yes. Jordan canceled on me the other day after one of our fights and I just decided, what the hey? Why not give Jack a chance? I mean, he has been asking for at least a year now, hasn't he?"

Brennan was silent for a moment as she mulled this over. "It's not going to complicate anything at work is it, Angela?"

"Brenn!" Angela cried in exasperation. "That's not the issue right now! The issue is that I am going out with Jack Hodgins!"

"That's an issue?" Brennan inquired, confused.

"Yes! Oh my God, Tempe! I've been dancing around this for the past three years and I finally say yes! That makes it an Issue with a capital I!"

Brennan sighed as she listened to the silence of her friend trying to calm down. When she couldn't hear the sound of her harsh breathing anymore, she decided to try and talk to her. "Well I kind of have an issue too, Angela. And I need your help." She bit her bottom lip in concentration as she slowly eased the car into the next lane and sped the car up a bit, searching for the nearest back road. Finding one, she smiled to herself and turned, leaving the bumper-to-bumper traffic behind.

"What do you mean you have an issue, Sweetie? You never call with 'issues'. That's usually my job." The woman gasped as if something had just occurred to her. "Do you have a date?"

Brennan nodded as she turned the car into her parking lot. "Yes."

"Ohmygod!" Angela squealed. "Who is it? Do I know him? Wait…" she trailed off. "You haven't called for date help since that Peter guy."

"It's Booth, Ange. And don't—"

She was cut off by a near-scream. She held the phone away from her ear and turned the key in the ignition before grabbing her bag. When the screaming ceased she put the phone back against her ear and vaguely listened to her friend claiming that she just _knew_ it and that all that sexual tension couldn't have gone to waste. Finally, when she was walking up the stairs to her apartment, her friend's allegations stopped, giving Brennan a space to get a few words in.

"Do you mind meeting me at my apartment in about twenty minutes or so? I need help getting ready."

"I told you that you have it bad for our FBI guy." Brennan could hear the grin on Angela's face. "So do you think that you are going to shack-up tonight? Do you need to borrow some condoms?"

"Angela!" Brennan cried, horrified, as she stuck her keys into the door. "It's not like that and you know it. I doubt this is even a date for pleasure. He probably just wants to talk. We _are_ what you would call friends, after all."

"Whatever you say, Tempe, but I'm bringing some over to stick in your bedroom just in case. Unless you're still on that patch…"

"Uh, yeah." Brennan tossed her bag onto the couch and made her way to the refrigerator. "I'm still on the patch. You have no idea how inconvenient it is to have to worry about taking routine bathroom trips to change a stupid stick. And it is highly impractical to expect to be able to concentrate on the intricacies of my job when I am nearly doubling over in pain. So, yes I have decided that the patch is a wonderful idea."

"Sheesh, Brenn," Angela breathed. "Don't turn the question into something scientific. I was just asking. Anyway, I'm on the road right now - and luckily I have my handy-dandy emergancy bag with me - but should I take Mulberry or Oak Street?"

"Mulberry and then Florentine," Brennan answered as she reached into the freezer and pulled out a carton of Moose Tracks. "Is the usual ice cream good for you?"

"Of course. Hey, Brenn, I'm here. I'll be right up, okay?"

"Thanks, Angela. I'll see you in a minute." And she closed the phone, sighing in relief as she ran a hand through her hair. Her heart thudded in her ears as she tried to comprehend the enormity of what she had just done. She'd acted like a hormonal teenager on her first date by calling her friend and asking for this kind of help. And as she walked over to her stereo system and reached for a CD she noted the way her hands quavered she chastised herself for acting unreasonable. It was probably just what she told Angela it was: a nice dinner between friends. He had never before shown an interest in having a relationship beyond partnership and friendship before and Brennan didn't believe that he would. Why choose the woman infamous for her emotional detachment when there were plenty of other women who would jump at the chance to go on a date with Special Agent Seeley Booth?

"Stop it, Temperance," she whispered to herself as her CD turned on and the piano concertos flooded from the speakers. And at just that moment a knock on the door signaled Angela's arrival. "Come in!" she called as she moved back into the kitchen and began scooping ice cream into two separate bowls.

"I'm here to save the day, Sweetie," cried Angela as she bounced into the apartment, closing the door behind her. "And I brought everything that we are going to need to sexify you for our Booth."

Brennan looked up in slight dismay as her friend beamed at her, holding a large bag up for inspection. "Make-up, hair products, lingerie: everything you need is in this bag."

"Great, Angela. Thanks." Brennan held up a bowl to her friend. "Here's your ice cream. And I made sure to get some extra peanut butter in there for you." A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as the bowl was snatched from her hands and Angela dug in with vigor. "So what exactly are you planning, Ange?" she asked warily as she eyed the large black bag.

Angela shrugged. "First we have to choose a dress. Then comes the shoes and then underwear. Then I want to get some make-up on you that accentuates whatever we have decided on and then I'm going to play with your hair a little." She grinned through a mouthful of ice cream. "In other words: when your man comes to pick you up you are going to blow him off of his feet."

Brennan tried to hide a smile. This was what she had been counting on—Angela's eagerness—to get her through the night. If she looked stunning then maybe, just maybe, she might be able to have the courage to figure out where Booth wanted this all to start going.

"Oh, and I hope you don't mind but I told Jack to pick me up here around seven fifteen. I got this sexy little outfit to put on and if I play my cards right I just might able to get to see a little more of Jack Hodgins before the night is over."

Brennan shuddered involuntarily. That was a BAD thought. "Can we just get started now? I want to be ready when he gets here."

Angela scoffed. "We have two hours here, hun. Take a chill pill. You do know what you are shaking like a leaf, correct?"

"What do you mean by a chill pill? I don't have any pills like that. And I'm not a leaf. Does a leaf really shake, anyway?"

"Whatever, Brenn. It's a figure of speech."

"Oh." Brennan nodded as she filed this information away.

- - -

Booth stared in confusion at the retreating backs of Angela Montenegro and Jack Hodgins. He chuckled when the man rested his hand on her back, the fingers traveling slightly southward. Booth turned off the car, got out, and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked up to the apartment building. His heart was doing a number on him and he tried in vain to slow it down to a reasonable rate. He had asked Dr. Temperance 'Bones' Brennan out on a date. He had asked the woman famous for her emotional detachment out and she had said yes. He had wanted to ask her out so many times before but he had been too frightened to put any kind of friendship that they had at risk.

And then he had met Tessa: a woman that he imagined he could be happy with. But each morning that they sat together at breakfast and every night that they walked between the restaurant and the movie theater, holding hands, his mind had been on another woman. So the relationship inevitably fell apart, leaving him free to pursue Bones. But then, of course, she met David—Dick431—and once again he was unable to pursue her.

But nearly three months ago he heard her dump David; tell him that she wasn't as into the relationship as he obviously was. If Booth listened to the rumors, David had proposed.

'_Stupid man,'_ thought Booth as he reached Brennan's front door. Usually he would feel bad for David but not in this instance when he had been interfering in what Booth was hoping for with Brennan. He couldn't deny that he had wanted to have a relationship with this woman since the day that they worked together on their first case nearly two and a half years ago. But she didn't seem to like him in any way, shape, or form so he'd had to deal with working on establishing a good working relationship and then a friendship. Finally he had done it.

But what had started off long ago as merely wanting and fondness had progressed to something much, _much_ more than that. If he thought about it—which he often did—he wondered just how far it _had_ progressed.

Shaking his head to clear it, Booth raised his hand and knocked on the door of Brennan's apartment. He listened to her footsteps behind the door and had one last fleeting moment of anticipation before the door opened. He felt his jaw drop as Brennan revealed herself to him. He tightened his hands into fists, digging the nails in, as he forced himself into composure.

"Wow," he breathed, running his eyes up and down her body. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she ran her hands over the fabric of the dark blue blouse that she wore over her long form-fitting black skirt. Her feet were in clad in black heels that wrapped up her leg. "You look lovely, Bones." He watched as her face reddened slightly and she shook her head. Her hair had been touched up as well. The ends curled slightly as they touched her shoulders and dropped a little ways down her back. Booth didn't think that he'd ever seen her hair curled.

"Thanks, Booth," she said quietly. "Do you want to come in for a bit while I just grab my bag?"

Booth nodded with a smile. He walked through her door, closing it behind him. "If I remember correctly you like Italian food, correct?" he asked as she disappeared into the back, presumably into her bedroom.

"Yes, you remembered correctly," came Brennan's reply as she reappeared carrying a blue shoulder bag that Booth had never seen before. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." His smile widened as she came to stand next to him and he opened the front door for him. "But remember, you're with me." He winked. "Don't go running off with the first little boy with drool on his chin."

"Why would I do that, Booth?" Brennan sounded truly confused and Booth found himself laughing.

"Never mind, Bones. I'm just saying that you look gorgeous tonight." She turned to stare at him with a slightly indignant look on her face and Booth nearly laughed again as he registered the doubt in her crystal-blue eyes. Opening the front door of the apartment building, he followed her out. "Come on. Let's get going or we'll be late for our reservation."

"Reservation?" Brennan looked mortified. "You didn't have to do that, Booth."

"Yes I did," Booth said as he opened the car door for her. She gave him a weird look before slipping in and he couldn't help but notice the flash of bare skin on her leg that was revealed by a slit up the side. Closing the door, he got in on the other side and started the car. The ride was spent in a comfortable silence, broken only by the endings of a song that Booth had been listening to before he came to pick up Brennan.

Booth pulled into a nearly-empty parking lot just as the song ended and he turned the key in the ignition and opened his car door. He walked around and opened her door, offering her a hand. "Come on, Bones. I'm getting hungry."

When he pulled her up to her feet, he laughed at her look of confusion. "I have never seen this place before, Booth. And it's just around the corner from my place. Has it been here long?"

Booth nodded as he closed the car door and offered her his arm. She silently slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and walked with him up the cobbled driveway. "It's been here for ages but I doubt that you've ever been here. It's usually really busy—it's main patrons are people who have lived in DC for years. Tonight it's usually closed but I called in a favor so we have it to ourselves."

"Booth!"

"Don't tell me that I didn't have to do that because you are worth every penny. And more, for that matter. Besides, isn't it better than having to deal with people arguing or pulling out their cell phones in the middle of dinner? And we won't have to wait in line or anything." They were in front of the restaurant now and Booth opened the door for her.

The air inside was comfortably warm compared to the chill autumn air outside and the décor resembled that of the classic Italian era. Faint music wafted through the room as they stopped in front of a small booth with a sign reading 'Please Wait to Be Seated.'

"Hey, Maurice!" Booth called, scanning the room with his eyes.

"Seeley!" a small plump man cried from the kitchen in the back of the room. He appeared, grinning from ear to ear. "How are you tonight?" His eyes met Brennan's and his smile widened even more. "And this must be the Bones that you were talking about. Tell me, is that your real name?"

Brennan shook her head, slightly mystified at the exuberance shown by this man. Before she could reply, Booth answered for her. "Her name's Temperance Brennan. She works with me at the Jeffersonian. Bones, this is Maurice, the owner of this fine establishment and my friend for nearly the past decade."

"Nice to meet you," Brennan mumbled.

"Great to meet you too, little lady. Now if you two will have a seat, we can start getting you guys something to eat. Lily—that's my wife, Ms. Brennan—is in the back with our two cooks, preparing something for you to eat. Someone will be out with you in a moment." Maurice bobbed his head and scurried back into the kitchen where the faint sounds of cooking and conversation sounded.

Booth grinned down at Brennan. "Great little guy, isn't he?"

"He seems nice," Brennan agreed. She followed him to a small booth in the center of the room. She slid into the seat and watched as Booth sat down across from her. "How did you meet him?"

"When I first came to DC after high school I found this little place and instantly fell in love with the food. And when I graduated from college and joined the FBI I came back for lunch nearly every day. Eventually the owners and I began having conversations and then it progressed form there. They were my only friends when I moved here and we've stayed that way ever since. I actually went to Maurice's wedding a couple weeks back." He shrugged and smiled. His gaze met Brennan's and it held for a long moment before speaking again. "So, Bones, when did you first come to DC?"

Brennan propped her head on her hand and sighed. "Well…"

"Here we go!"

Brennan and Booth looked up suddenly at a small woman holding a container of ice. She slowly slipped a bottle of wine into the ice and then set down two wine glasses. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a matchbook and lit the candles at the table. Finally she pulled out a small tablet of paper and a pen.

"Hello," she said in a heavy Italian accent. "How are you this evening, Seeley?"

Booth smiled. "Hello, Lily. I'm doing great. How about you?"

The woman waved a plump hand as if dismissing the question. "I'm doing great, boy. But who is this fine young lady?" She turned her large brown eyes to Brennan. "You must be Bones." She looked to Booth for an answer and he nodded slowly. Her smile widened, showing all of her teeth and she turned back to Brennan. "I am simply thrilled to finally meet you, Ms. Bones."

"Brennan, actually," Brennan corrected. "Temperance Brennan."

Lily scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "But I thought your name was Bones."

Booth chuckled and shook his head. "Naw, that's what I call her." He winked across the table at Brennan.

Lily's mouth formed an 'O' of understanding. "Well, then," she ran a hand over her skirt and pulled two menus out of her large apron pocket. She placed them on the table and clicked her pen open. "Does anything strike you right away or do you need more time?"

Booth hardly looked at the small, laminated card in front of him. He looked up at Brennan and grinned. "You have got to try their _Pollo alla Scarpariello_. It's probably the greatest thing ever. And that way I can get the _Chicken Marsala_. Probably the next greatest thing ever." He winked again and nodded in encouragement. "Trust me."

Brennan stared dubiously for a moment but soon she nodded and handed the menu back to Lily. "I'll go with the _Scarpariello_." The woman nodded and pulled the wine from the bucket and opened it. She held it out for Brennan to see. The script was curly and actually quite lovely to her eye. She couldn't make out what it said – French had never really been her forte – but she could definitely tell that it was a good brand.

"I pulled out our finest for just this occasion. I hope you enjoy it." Then she tipped it and let the clear wine flow into the glass in front of Brennan and then Booth. Turning on her heel, she muttered something about how the food would be ready soon and then she marched off into the kitchen, throwing a grin and a wink over her shoulder.

"She was…exuberant…" Brennan said slowly when the woman had sufficiently disappeared.

Booth chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "You have no idea, Bones. But cut her some slack: she's been waiting to meet you for a while."

Brennan raised an eyebrow. "How much have you said about me?"

"Enough." Booth shrugged and gave her his copyrighted charm smile. Lifting the wine glass from the table, he raised it in front of him. "How about we drink?"

Brennan lifted hers as well. "To what?"

"How about…" Booth thought for a long minute before Brennan spoke up.

"How about to being Scully and Mulder."

Booth grinned broadly as he nodded and clinked his glass against hers. He took a small sip of the wine, savoring the taste, before pointing an accusatory finger at the woman sitting across from him. "You don't even know what that meant, do you?"

Brennan shook her head as she took a second sip from her own wine. "Not the slightest idea."


	2. A Song Says a Million Words

**Chapter Two of: The Greatest Gift**

**Rating: T near the end of the chapter.**

**Summary: Sometimes, music conveys what our own words cannot.**

**Don' t own nothing. Not Bones, the song I've used, Princess Bride, The Encyclopedia, or even this computer I am using. It's a sad life, isn't it?**

**- - -**

**Chapter Two**

"And that is the last time I've ever gone on a camping trip."

Booth laughed as he stuck the last piece of chicken into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "I don't think that I would want to ever grace a camping sight with my presence either after seeing that."

Brennan shrugged as she took a sip of her wine. "I've also been slightly afraid around raccoons. It is an irrational fear, I admit that, but it is difficult to grow out of something that has been developing since childhood." She sighed and set her wine glass down. "So now it's your turn. What will you never, ever do again and why?"

Booth let out a deep breath and leaned back into his chair comfortably. "That would definitely be watching every single extended version of the Lord of the Rings back to back with no breaks." He mock-shuddered before grinning at Brennan. "Do you even know what that is?"

"Of course!" she sounded indignant. I've read each and every one of Tolkein's books and they were absolutely enthralling."

"Ah," Booth pointed his fork at her. "But have you seen the movies?"

"No. No, I have not seen the movies. I wasn't even aware that there were any movies based on the books. Are they any good?"

"Well they definitely aren't as good as the books were but they are extremely well-written."

"Okay, time for another question."

"How about music? What kind do you listen to?"

"I don't know," Brennan shrugged as she took a sip from her wine. "I like instrumental. And I like music from other countries."

"What about stuff that was made in the great US of A and has words to it?"

"I like music where the lyrics mean something. Like if they tell a story. I like to be able to get something out of it. I hate it when you know that the story is supposed to be melancholy but it doesn't say why. I guess it's like when you read a book. And what about you?"

"I guess it's the same for me. I love listening to the kind of music that sets a mood and that can be used to convey a message. Like whenever I was ticked off at my parents I would play something blaring loud that basically said I didn't want them in my life. Immature but I've been doing things like that my whole life. But I'd have to say my favorite is Foreigner." He grinned teasingly and winked.

"Hmm. Here's a new question: What is your favorite movie?"

"Booth!" Brennan laughed. "I don't know much about movies. How about you answer that one while I think of my answer. This may take a while."

"You have to ask the question, then," Booth said, laughing with her.

"Okay. What's your favorite movie, Booth?"

"Oh, gosh. I don't know. I really like the original Romeo and Juliet—was it 1969? I've always loved the simple but classic romance of that story. But if you asked me next week it might be something different like The Ring. I don't have a steady favorite."

Brennan nodded. "I've seen Romeo and Juliet. I enjoyed it. But I think that Romeo is a ridiculously fickle man."

"How do you mean?"

"He goes to a party in what he calls complete and irrevocable love with the woman Rosalie and then in less than thirty minutes he falls in love with another woman. What would have happened if Rosalie noticed him that night? Would he still have fallen in love with Juliet? Would she have gone on to marry Paris if he hadn't? There are just so many horrid coincidences that destroyed so many lives."

Booth chuckled and shook his head with humor. "You over-analyze, Bones. But you're right. It could have been a much different story and definitely wouldn't have been nearly as popular if those things hadn't happened. It's supposed to be a tragedy."

"Hmm. Maybe."

"Now what is _your_ favorite movie?"

"I don't really watch TV, Booth. You should know that by now."

"But that doesn't mean that you haven't seen any that you liked."

"Well…" Brennan propped her head up on her hand and thought. "I would have to say Princess Bride."

"HA!" Booth laughed loudly. "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father..."

"Prepare to die." They finished the line together, both smiling widely.

"I grew up on that movie, Booth," Brennan said with a small laugh. "It was Russ' favorite and he convinced me to watch it one morning when it was raining too hard and I was out of books to read. I actually own it."

"Wow, Bones," Booth said with a chuckle. "I didn't think that you actually owned a move."

"Of course I own a movie. I own five, actually. And I have a TV, too."

"I thought you said it was broken."

"That was the one in my living room. I have one in my bedroom for those days that I am a too sick to get out of bed and don't have anything to read."

"Well," Booth, leaned forward and speared a piece of her chicken before popping into his mouth, ignoring her feeble arguments, "we've been here for almost three hours. How about we get out of here?"

Brennan raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement. Booth had already paid the bill a while back. "What is it now? Ten thirty?"

Booth looked at his watch and his eyes widened. "It's eleven." Looking up, he gave her his copyrighted grin. "I really should get you home before curfew. What do you say?" He stood from the table and pulled Brennan's chair back so that she could stand up. Reaching for her hand absent-mindedly, he turned to the kitchen and waved. "Thanks again, guys!"

"Any time, Seeley! And don't forget to come and visit sometimes, Dr. Bones!" Lily's voice came from somewhere far into the back of the kitchen.

Brennan smiled and walked out with Booth, savoring the feel of his hand clasping hers. The night had gone by so fast and she felt an urge to stay with him. The conversation at dinner had gone all over the spectrum, covering everything from most traumatic thing ever to happen at work with coworkers (Booth's story of walking in on one of his past partners in _flagrante dilecto_ took the cake) to favorite foods. It had been wonderful to feel her inhibitions fall away as he teased her gently about some of her little quirks and mad constant movie references that she never understood. Maybe the wine had helped a little, its gentle taste loosening her tongue more than would be usual but she didn't feel as if any of the conversation had been awkward or forced. It had been genuine.

"Hey, Bones! You still there?"

Brennan looked up in surprise to find that she was standing next to the open car passenger door, with Booth pointing in a gesture for her to get in. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I must have zoned out for a moment, there." She smiled softly as she slid into the dark car and watched as Booth walked around to get in on the other side. When he was buckled in and had the keys in the ignition, Booth turned to look at Brennan with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Do you want to know something, Bones?"

Cocking her head, Brennan looked over at him. "Sure."

"I've wanted to ask you out for a long time now."

Eyes widened, Brennan's lips parted slightly. "What?"

Booth nodded slowly and leaned in closer so there were only a few inches from their faces. "Yep. I've wanted to get you out of the lab for ages now."

"Why?" Brennan seemed flustered as she stared up at the man's face.

Booth scoffed and leaned even closer. Brennan felt her face grow warmer when his breath brushed her face. Her eyes widened even more as she stared into his eyes, trying to understand this sudden proximity as her mind tripped over herself. Her heart sped up as the smell of his subtle cologne overcame her.

"Sometimes it amazes me, Bones, how smart you can be and yet how little you understand about the world or its inhabitants." Booth's voice was rough with some emotion that Brennan could not pinpoint as she tried to understand his comment. "Anyway," Booth sighed as he leaned back into his chair and shifted gears and backed out of the parking lot, "my point was that I really enjoyed this evening. It was fun, being able to talk to you like that."

Brennan blinked as her usually-fast mind sluggishly tried to understand the sudden rush of emotions that she was experiencing. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I enjoyed it too, Booth." Reclining back into her chair, she stared out the front window and smiled to herself. They rode in silence for a few blocks until her apartment came into view and they hit a red light.

"Hey, I have something to give you, Bones. It's your birthday next week, isn't it?"

"What? How did you know?"

Booth shrugged. "Angela told me. But I wanted to give it to you in advance. Do you mind?"

"You didn't have to get me anything, Booth," Brennan sighed as the car pulled into the apartment parking lot. "Angela shouldn't have told anyone that it was my birthday. I haven't really celebrated it with anyone for at least two or three years."

"Why is that, Bones? And why does it mean that I can't celebrate with you now?" He parked the car and turned the key in the ignition. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I'm going to give this to you whether you like it or not, Bones." He turned to her again and smiled softly before reaching into the back of the car and pulling out a large gift bag and placing it on Brennan's lap. "You can open it now or later, it doesn't matter, but I just wanted to give you something seeing as how I didn't know it was your birthday last year."

Brennan closed her hands around the edges of the bag and sighed softly. "I'm going to open it in my apartment, Booth."

Disappointment clouded Booth's eyes but he nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to walk you up to your apartment?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Oh." Booth looked out the window and bit his lip.

"But would you like to come up for a beer?"

Looking over in surprise, he chuckled darkly before nodding and pulling the keys out of the ignition and sticking them into his pocket before opening the door. Brennan smiled back and opened her own door, sliding out of her seat and into the cool autumn air. Together, they walked into the building and up the stairs to her floor.

When they got into her apartment and Brennan had retrieved two beers they sat down on the couch, Brennan sitting cross-legged and Booth with his feet propped on the small table in front of them. "So are you going to open it?" he asked, pointing at the bag with his beer bottle.

Brennan nodded and stuck her hand into the bag, pushing the tissue paper aside and pulled out a small wrapped package. Eyeing it curiously, she looked up at Booth before slipping her finger under the tape and slipped it out of the wrapping paper. Her eyes widened in puzzlement before a look of revelation crossed her features followed by a rare grin.

"_The Encyclopedia of Pop Culture in the Twentieth Century_?" she read, running her fingers over the colorful cover. "Booth that's just mean."

Booth laughed and shook his head before taking a sip of his beer. "Nah, it's not mean. It was just something that had to be done. Maybe you'll learn a few things."

Flipping the book over to scan the back, her eyebrows lifted briefly. "Booth, you are spending far too much on me. I don't like that."

"Well then maybe _you'll_ just have to take _me _on a date next time, won't you?" He gave her a sidelong glance as she took a long sip of her beer. "That is if you want to go out again, of course."

"Of course," murmured Brennan as she bit her lip. Looking up, she stared at the man next to her and sighed, trying to sort out her thoughts. Did she want to go out with him again? She'd had fun—more fun than she'd had in ages with anyone but Angela—but was she ready for another relationship? She had just recently broken up with David and wasn't overly sure that she wanted to make yet another risk. Granted: There was less of a chance that Booth would ask her to marry him since he knew her standing and knew what had happened when David had asked her but what if he got too attached? What if _she_ got too attached and, when the time came, she wouldn't be able to move on with her life? Sighing heavily, she stood from the couch and walked over to the large collection of CDs. Running her fingers over it, she turned slowly back to face Booth. "Do you want to listen to something?"

Booth smiled and stood, walking over to stand behind her. Leaning over to stare at the CDs, he pulled one out of a small bag that he'd carried discreetly under his coat. "Why don't we listen to this? It's a CD that I made for you a few weeks ago."

Cocking her head, Brennan looked at Booth curiously and took the CD from his fingers. Opening the case she slipped the disc into the stereo system. "What's on it?"

"Just a few songs that I thought you might like." Booth smiled at her as he pressed the large circular play button. Soft guitar music filled the room through the surround sound. Brennan looked at Booth with increasing confusion as he extended his right hand. Smiling shyly, she put her smaller hand in his large one and let him lead her into the center of the room. He pulled her against him and rested his free hand on the small of her back. When the lyrics began Brennan lowered her eyes self-consciously as they began swaying to the music.

_Watch my life,  
Pass me by,  
In the rear view mirror  
Pictures frozen in time  
Are becoming clearer  
I don't wanna waste another day  
Stuck in the shadow of my mistakes _

Yeah...

Booth could tell that she was listening to the lyrics by the intense look in her eyes. He watched as the blush spread further over her face and he felt her hand on his shoulder tighten and loosen as the one in his hand trembled.

_Cause I want you,  
And I feel you,  
Crawling underneath my skin  
Like a hunger,  
Like a burning,  
To find a place I've never been  
Now I'm broken,  
And I'm faded,  
I'm half the man I thought I would be:  
But you can have what's left of me_

Slowly; carefully, Booth moved his right hand to his shoulder, letting Brennan's hand go so that it rested there. Moving his hand to her waist, he pulled her close, looking down and watching her eyes attentively for any sign that she wanted him to stop. But her shining eyes continued to rest on his chest and, if anything, she seemed to welcome the increased proximity.

_I've been dying inside,  
Little by little,  
No where to go,  
But going out of my mind  
In endless circles,  
Running from my self until,  
You gave me a reason for standing still_

As the chorus began again, Booth reached up with his left hand and put his index finger under her chin. Softly he lifted her face so that he could look her in the eyes. He smiled gently as her eyes flicked over his face and she swallowed hard.

_Cause I want you,  
And I feel you,  
Crawling underneath my skin  
Like a hunger,  
Like a burning,  
To find a place I've never been  
Now I'm broken,  
And I'm faded,  
I'm half the man I thought I would be:  
But you can have what's left of me_

She seemed to be leaning into him now. Her eyes were locked on his and her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.

_It's falling faster,  
Barely breathing,  
Give me something,  
To believe in  
Tell me: It's not all in my head _

Brennan knew the insinuation of the song. She knew what the singer was trying to portray to the listeners but her mind raced to find a logical explanation for why Booth was directing it at her.

_Take what's left  
Of this man  
Make me whole  
Once again_

She could feel her heart thudding against her chest as she felt herself rising slightly onto her toes. His face was lowering to meet her and she felt her ragged breath pass her lips. Her fingers moved from his shoulders to rest on his chest. Her mind couldn't find a reasonable explanation but her body seemed to scream to her the most illogical thing that could be motivating him. Her body cried for her to touch him but there was something else there, too. Something she wasn't used to feeling. Something that she couldn't define.

Cause I want you,  
And I feel you,  
Crawling underneath my skin  
Like a hunger,  
Like a burning,  
To find a place I've never been  
Now I'm broken,  
And I'm faded,  
I'm half the man I thought I would be:  
But you can have what's left of me

Their foreheads were touching and their breath mingled. They'd stopped dancing and they stood still in the middle of the room, each thinking about the song and what it meant. Booth's hands was cupping her face and he slowly closed some of the space between them. He watched her eyes widen as his lips whispered over hers. He pulled away to gauge her reaction. He smiled tenderly at the sight of her eyes half-closed and her face inclined to meet his. Leaning forward again, he pressed his lips against hers. And this time she rose to meet him. 

I've been dying inside you see  
I'm going out of my mind  
Out of my mind  
I'm just running in circles all the time  
Will you take what's left  
Will you take what's left  
Will you take what's left of me?  
Just running in circles in my mind  
Will you take what's left  
Will you take what's left  
Will you take what's left of me?

Her face was pressed delicately against his as his lips covered hers. Her hands on his chest collected the fabric around them in a bunch as she moaned quietly. When he finally pulled away for air, he smiled down at her with that familiarly coy smile as his thumb brushed against her cheek. "You didn't jump-kick me," he whispered, his voice hoarse as he leaned back in to rest his forehead against hers again.

Brennan felt a bubble of laughter escape her lips and she returned the smile. "Nah. I've decided on using The Pain."

Booth pretended to cringe in pain as he ran his hands down her neck and to her shoulders before slipping down her arms to wrap around her wrists. "I hope I didn't leave too much for interpretation there," he murmured.

She shook her head and the flush on her cheeks increased once again. "No. No, you didn't."

"Good." And he pressed forward once again and captured her lips with his. This time their kiss was less timid and Brennan felt the heat racing through her veins as she squeezed his large hands. Her eyes closed and she saw red spots on the inside of her lids as the pressure intensified and he breath came in short, shallow gasps.

When he pulled away, Booth was smiling again. Pressing his lips against her cheek, he loosened his hold on her hands. "I should go. Before…" The both knew what he meant as he left the statement unfinished.

"Yeah." Brennan sighed as she pulled away. The song had changed but neither heard the words as the couple separated. Her fingers released the shirt and smoothed it out gently. Her eyes looked back up at Booth and she smiled shyly.

Booth chuckled softly and his hands covered hers. "Do you want to go somewhere tomorrow? Together, I mean."

She nodded without hesitation. "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

"I'll pick you up at noon tomorrow, all right?" She nodded before he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against hers. They lingered for a moment before he stepped back and retreated through the front door.

- - -

Brennan stood still for a long minute before taking a long shaky breath and reaching for the stereo and pressing the STOP button. Her heart was hammering against her chest and her face was warm. Her skin tingled and her lips felt prickled with the memory of the feel of him against her. Turning, she walked over to the couch and sat down, pulling the large book into her lap. She smiled again at the title before opening it. Flipping the pages, she scanned the smooth pages before her eyes caught a small slip of paper poking from near the back of the book. Frowning, she opened it to the page and read the heading.

**The X-Files (1993-2002)**

A small passage was colored with a highlighter and Brennan's eyes fell to that, reading slowly and carefully.

**This show was successful for many reasons but one of the main reasons was the continuous relationship between the two main characters, Special Agent Fox Mulder and Special Agent Dana Scully. Soon after their joining as partners on the notorious X-Files (Mulder's life-calling) they developed a trust that was extremely strong and soon this trust developed to friendship and finally to a romance. **

Below it, there was a sort sentence written in a familiar scrawl.

_The Mulder to your Scully. _

- - -

**Thank you for reading. And I want to acknowledge the following people:**

**Acerbond - for being the first person to comment. Thanx!**

**Mendenbar - I will SO use that info about Booth in later works. I am keeping it!**

**ShizueAoki - although I can't get a username for you, your review was very fun to read. :D**

**And, of course, to my muses Kyree and Micheal. I love you two. Really, I do. :-)**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own the song Take What's Left of this Man, Bones, or any of the characters in Bones. I do own Maurice and his wife. They are pawns in my little games. Mwahahaha._**

**One more thing: "I want to be the Mulder to your Scully" is THE best pick-up line _ever_. And I do mean that. LOL**

**THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE PUSH THE BUTTON! (you all know which one I mean.) O.O**


	3. A FollowUp Date

**Thank you, dear readers, for your patience with me. I was completely ready to post this about a week ago but then I had a breakthrough and changed the whole story plot for the rest of this story AND the Grand Essentials. (And if you're waiting for an update: That one is going to change dirastically. I am going to do a rewrite.) **

**So please enjoy this and give me feedback. And requests. Whatever. But thank you for the reviews that I got already! Big hugs for you all!**

**- - -**

**Chapter Three**

"TEMPE!"

Brennan's eyes flew open and she rolled off of the bed, bringing the sheets with her.

"TEMPE, WAKE UP RIGHT NOW OR I AM COMING OVER THERE AND YANKING YOU OUT OF BED, FEET FIRST! I MEAN IT!"

Groaning, Brennan rested her head on the floor and reached up to the small table next to her bed. She groped around for the phone for a bit while listening to the screaming coming from her answering machine. When she found it she pressed the TALK key and pulled it down to her ear.

"What are you yelling about, Angela?" she groaned. Her eyes went to the mirror on the other side of the room and looked at the reflection of the time. It read 13:6. It was 6:31 in the morning.

"Thank God, Tempe," Angela sighed in relief, her voice lowering several decibels. "I have to talk to you."

"All right, Angela," Brennan mumbled, running a hand over her face and through her tousled hair. "What happened?"

"I woke up this morning, Brenn. I woke up naked."

"_Wow,_ Angela. Great job." It was one of those rare moments that Brennan freely used sarcasm. Her eyes were heavy and she fought to stop them from closing.

"No, Tempe. I mean I woke up naked and there was someone else with me."

Brennan felt her heart drop as she remembered her friend's date. "Oh, my God," she whispered. "Was it…was it Hodgins?"

"Oh my God, Tempe." Angela's voice was also a whisper and Brennan could hear the tears threatening to fall. "It was him. It was him. I slept with him, Brennan."

"Well…" Brennan fumbled for the right words. "Where is he now?"

"He's in my bed." Her whisper was harsh now. "What do I do, Tempe? What do I do?"

"Well where are you? You were screaming earlier…how did he not hear?"

"I'm in the hallway, Brenn. I'm in the hallway and Mrs. Newman is standing next to me holding a cup of coffee. Thanks, Mrs. Newman. Did I wake you?"

"No," Brennan could hear the little woman smiling and she took the chance to sit up and disentangle herself from the bed sheets. Standing, she walked slowly into the bathroom, her fingers running through her hair and absently working with some of the tangles. When Angela spoke again she seemed calmer and Brennan guessed that she had accepted the coffee.

"So what do I do?"

"Well what can you do?" Brennan sighed, looking into the mirror and rubbed her nose.

"Well I am going back in now just in case he wakes up. I don't want him to think I stood him up. But what do I do? What do I do when he wakes up and we have to _talk_?"

"My question is what we're going to do when you two can't work together because you're too awkward." Brennan slouched against the counter and rested her forehead on the mirror. It was too early, she decided.

"That's not the problem, Tempe. Listen, I doubt I'm going to get much out of you by way of advice this early in the morning so why don't I just take care of this morning's impending awkwardness myself. How about we meet for lunch?"

"No can do, Ange," Brennan turned on the faucet. Running her hand under the water, she rubbed her face. "I've got plans for lunch."

"What are you doing?" Angela seemed much calmer now and Brennan mentally thanked Mrs. Newman.

"I'm going to lunch with Booth."

Silence on the other end reminded her that that probably wasn't the best idea to tell Angela.

"Angela? Are you still there?" Brennan turned off the sink and pulled a washcloth and rubbed her face.

"Tempe, you know that the only reason I'm not screaming right now is that Jack is in the next room, right?"

Brennan nodded. "Yeah, Ange. I kind of guessed that."

"So what happened to _you_ last night? Did you guys do the Dirty Dirty? Or am I the only one?"

"Angela!" Brennan gasped, her face flushing. "You know me better than that."

"Did _any_thing happen to you last night, Brenn?" Angela seemed crestfallen.

Brennan paused and cleared her throat. "Well, maybe..."

"_What happened, Brennan? Tell me NOW."_ Brennan smiled to herself as she recognized her friend's usual enthusiasm.

"Does a kiss count?"

"You _know_ it does! Oh my God, Tempe!" she gasped as if something had just occurred to her. "Was there tongue? Does he have Roman Hands? Did anything else happen? Were you vertical or horizontal?"

"No, don't know what that means, no, and vertical," Brennan answered the questions in order as she walked into the kitchen and contemplated what to eat for breakfast.

"And how did it happen?"

"It just…did. We were dancing and—"

"DANCING? Oh, man, Brenn! You get all the great guys. What kind of music? Was it Classical or Jazz? Or Pop? What kind of dancing was it? Was there grinding or was it slow dancing?"

Heaving a sigh, Brennan decided on leftover Chinese and a glass of ice water. She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and pulled out a bowl and dumped the box of Chinese food into it. "I don't know what kind of music it was exactly—maybe Pop. But it was slow dancing." She didn't mention the lyrics or what they meant. That just seemed too personal.

"That is _so_ romantic." Angela sighed and Brennan watched the bowl moving in circles in the microwave.

"Maybe."

"So what did you guys do on your date?"

Brennan summarized the previous night—skipping over the fine details like the book and what she'd found in it—as she pulled out her food and set it on the table. When she finished, she scooped a large bite of Lo Mein into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "It was probably the best date I've ever been on. We had so much fun and there was actual conversation."

"I told you so, Brenn."

"No, you said that there was sexual tension. You insisted that I would get laid the first time he ever made physical contact with me. It's not like that, Angela. It still isn't. One kiss doesn't change that. We're still just friends and partners, maybe with a bit of tension but nothing that will or can ever develop into more. It would screw with our entire working relationship. And besides, won't there be enough of awkwardness at work with you and Jack?"

"You are so wrong, Sweetie. There is definitely something else there. And if you insist on—"

"Angela?"

Brennan dropped her spoon and her mouth fell open. "Is that Jack?" she whispered.

"Yes! Oh, what do I do?" Angela was whispering and speaking fast. Brennan could feel her heart beating fast in anxiety for her friend. "He's coming into the kitchen! You know what, Brenn?" her voice was at a normal level but not without a slight tremor and Brennan guessed that Jack was in the kitchen. "I'm going to have to let you go. I'm glad you had a great time on your date last night. Call me after lunch, okay?"

"Good luck."

"Thanks. You too." And the phone line clicked dead.

Sighing, Brennan folded her arms on the table and put her head down, wondering if her work life was about to change forever and if that change would be good or bad.'

- - -

"Angela?" Hodgins stumbled into the large kitchen as he ran a hand through his curly hair. His other hand was clutching a blanket around his waist.

"You know what, Brenn? I'm going to have to let you go. I'm glad you had a great time on your date last night. Call me after lunch, okay?" Angela stood for a second, listening to a response, before nodding and smiling. "Thanks. You too."

She pushed a button and then hung it up on the cradle. Hodgins watched as slowly turned around on her feet to face him. He felt himself warming up to the morning as he eyed the silk wrap that she wore, leaving her arms and shoulders bare along with the legs below her mid-thigh. "Morning," he said with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long," Angela said, clearing her throat and rubbing her exposed shoulders and arms. "I just got some of Mrs. Newman's famous coffee and Tempe called."

Hodgins' eyes snapped up in surprise. "Dr. Brennan?"

Angela nodded and picked up cup off of the counter and took a sip. "She was calling to talk to me about her date with Booth last night."

"Oh, yeah!" his smile grew to a broad grin. "How did that go, anyway?"

"There was a kiss." Angela was grinning, too and when Hodgins' approached she offered him her coffee.

He chuckled and took a sip. "So is there going to be a follow-up date?"

"Yeah. They're going out at noon today." Her heart rate multiplied as Hodgins looked up from his coffee and stared at her with a strange look that she hadn't seen on him since…since the night before. The memories flooded her mind as warmth followed them up to her face. She remembered his lips on her own and his fingertips brushing past her… Oh, God.

"Hmm," Hodgins murmured as he set the cup aside on the counter. Leaning forward, he leaned closer to her, his hands resting on the counter on either side of her. "So how did you sleep?"

Angela swallowed hard and smiled softly. "Fine. How about you?"

"Like a baby." He leaned in closer and brought his lips to hover only a breath away from hers. "So do we have a follow-up date?"

Angela made a decision then and there, smiling before closing the space between them. "You must be lucky, Bug Man. I may just have to accept."

"Great." Hodgins muttered before pulling her up into a deep kiss and slipping his hand to rest under the hem of her wrap.

- - -

Brennan tilted her head back to let the pounding water hit her face. Her mind had slowed down for the first time since she'd woken up this morning. As the heat massaged her skin and the steam wrapped itself around her she was able to sensibly go over the night before. After Booth had left she had lain alone in the dark, feeling his lips against hers again and again until she had to get up and soak her face to get the sensations to subside. She hadn't been able to coherently think about what had really happened without a flush returning to her cheeks and her pulse rate increasing.

But now, under the heat of the water, she was able to analyze the events.

First, she thought as she rubbed shaving cream on her legs, there was the fact that she had had a wonderful time. She could only imagine how much he had paid for the dinner and then the wine. And the money besides, even though she was far from romantic, Brennan found that she could sufficiently appreciate how idealistic the evening had been.

Next there was the CD. Brennan smiled softly at the memory of the words as she rubbed shampoo through her hair. That, too, was something that would cause a sentimental woman like Angela to melt. It was sweet, the way that he had offered to dance with her in her apartment. But what the song meant—what the lyrics were meant to convey—was much more than sweet. They suggested that he wanted more from her than friendship. In fact they pretty much screamed that he wanted a real relationship.

But was she ready for that? Was she ready to commit herself after the disastrous events of her relationship with David and Peter before him? She rarely had a successful relationship and doubted that if a relationship with Booth began it would be painful when it ended. And she knew instinctively that a relationship with Booth would not be something superficial on any level. No other man that she knew could dedicate himself to something or someone so completely. She remembered the first time that they had ever worked together and, though he grated on her nerves incessantly, she had been compelled by his passion for what he did. And over their continuous partnership she had found herself drawn to him. Soon she had began feeling things that she'd never thought she'd feel.

Sighing heavily, Brennan let the water rinse the last of the shampoo from her hair. Running her hands up her legs to double-check that she'd gotten all of her legs, she turned the water off and reached out blindly for the towel that hung on the wall. Wrapping it around her body, she stepped out onto the rug and walked over to the mirror, rubbing circles on the fog so that she could see her reflection as she applied lotion onto her skin.

Finally, there was the kiss.

Brennan had kissed guys before—had slept with some, even—but she'd never felt what she'd felt after that one, simple kiss. She felt like a walking cliché. She felt breathless and her skin tingled and she felt dizzy and her heart beat hard against her chest at the very thought of him.

She hated feeling like that.

But that kiss had felt so good: soft and gentle, wild and persistent. Damn it, she had even dreamed about it, much to her great distaste.

Whatever, she thought as she unwrapped the towel and hung it back up on the hook and walked out into her bedroom. She would try to take this how it was. She would not let herself fall into a hole, dug her unruly emotions. She would not let herself be governed by mere feelings and desires. She would try this proposition of happiness but she would not be naive.

Finally finished with her analyzing and her hygiene, Brennan began to dress, mentally preparing herself for her upcoming date. Yes, she would try. She would take something at face-value for once and see where it led her. Who knew? Maybe it would end out well for once and maybe she would be happy. Maybe.

- - -

**I respond to all reviews. They feed my lonesome soul in this sad time of school and homework. Again, I am open to any and all comme****nts. **

**Love you all!  
Deamon**


	4. Game of 20 Questions

**Hello, little readers. I'm being true to form and posting my next chapter a week or so after I did the last one. **

**The story is still rated T but in a couple chapters I _may_ be switching it to M. It just depends on whether or not I can get that kind of material out of me. Not a great smut writer but we'll have to see, won't we?**

**The Greatest Gift - Chapter Four: Game of 20 Questions  
Rating: T  
Summary: It's the follow-up date and Booth decides to play a little game of twenty questions while he and Bones do their thing.  
Spoilers: Um...not really.  
Shout-outs: A big shout-out to all of you who have reviewed! And definitely to my newest buddy, QTR. I don't know if you read Bones fics but if you do I can assure you that I am about to work on what we talked about. I had a break-through:-)**

**On with the show...**

**

* * *

****Chapter Four:**

Brennan stared in irritation at the large box on her living room floor. Why did the stupid thing have to get here at such an inconvenient time? If it had only come the day before or a couple hours earlier she could have had one of the guys stay and install it. When it came to electronics outside of her job she was hopeless.

"Maybe I could ask Booth," she mumbled to herself as her fingers traced the large white letters on the box. She already knew where she wanted it; already had the wires going through the walls. But she had no idea how to connect it and she sure as hell wasn't strong enough to lift the stupid thing up on the wall.

She couldn't even lift the box an inch from the floor, it was so frigging heavy.

"Knock, knock."

Brennan spun around, falling back from her crouching position onto her back. Booth was standing in her doorway and was wearing his annoying-as-hell smile with jeans and a T-shirt with a large logo from something that she guessed to be a movie.

"What are you doing just barging into my apartment?" she cried as she scrambled back to her feet. "I could have been undressed!"

"Ha," Booth snorted, shaking his head in amusement. "Your door was wide open, Bones. Did you leave it like that on purpose or did your brilliant mind take a break for a moment?"

Brennan scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm trying to work something out. I must have forgotten. But you still could have knocked."

"I did. You heard me." He shrugged. "I'll try again. Knock, knock."

She raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "Fine, Booth. Come in."

His grin widened as he walked the rest of the way into her apartment and shut the door behind him. His eyes fell to the box and suddenly widened. "Bones? What is that?"

"I decided to get another TV."

"How much to you make being a Squint, Bones? Because this is a extra-large screen, high definition, plasma screen TV." Booth shook his head and knelt down next to the box, running his fingers gingerly over the edges.

"I've been saving the random royalties from my latest novel. I get a check each month from the book stores and it actually didn't take long to save up the money—probably three months or so. My last TV was a piece of junk and the men at the store said that this one was the best kind. But it's really starting to tick me off." She growled that last statement, throwing another scowl at the box.

"You haven't even opened it, Bones."

"I know but I suck at mechanical appliances. All I have to do is look at this thing and I get angry."

Booth was staring at her passionate face with his eyebrows raised and a small, teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She looked up at him with a frown.

"What's so funny?" she snapped, uncrossing her arms and dropping them to her side.

Booth shook his head and walked over to her. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her in close so that when he looked down their noses nearly touched. He heard her breath catch and his smile only widened slightly as his free hand grabbed her other wrist. "Although your outburst over a simple television is quite amusing, I was actually thinking about how beautiful you look when you're angry. Maybe I should buy you another TV for your bedroom just to see you angry like this again."

"I have a TV for my bedroom already, Booth," she said, her fists clenching and unclenching as she stared straight at him and tried to ignore her heart hammering loudly.

"Really?" Booth cocked his head as he digested yet another piece of information about her. "I thought you didn't watch TV."

"I don't. But it's always nice to be able to catch up on the news while I'm getting ready for work. I'm what you call a news junkie." She tried to laugh but it came out slightly strangled as images of the night before flashed through her mind. She cursed silently as her body moved subconsciously even closer so that their bodies were touching and their faces even closer.

"Is that all you're addicted to or is there something else that I should probably know about?" Booth's voice was rough as he leaned in closer to brush his nose against hers softly.

She shook her head, pushing down the thoughts that were surfacing against her will.

"Well that's good. I can deal with an addiction to news."

And then he moved forward the rest of the way and pressed his lips against hers.

She gasped at the contact and her eyes closed. His hands moved hers behind her back as his body moved closer to hers and his thumbs made small circles on the inside of her wrists.

When they pulled away, he kissed her cheek gently and then released her hands, moving his own to rub against her arms. "How about we go out for lunch and then when we get back I'll help you with that TV. Then you won't have to get so angry."

She nodded slowly, her eyes still half closed. "'Kay," she mumbled as she willed her breath to return to normal.

Booth responded by smiling and stepping away, stretching his arms out beside him. "Great! Now let's get going before the traffic becomes too congested."

Brennan looked down at her attire—jeans and a baggy T. The delivery men had arrived when she was only wearing a towel and she'd thrown on the first thing she could grab—and frowned. "Where are we going? I want to go change."

"We're going to an American restaurant." Booth eyed her outfit and smiled. "I don't think I've ever seen you in a T-shirt that big."

"It's Russ'. He left it and I needed to grab something fast when the delivery guys got here. And what exactly does an American restaurant entail?"

"French-Fries, Burgers, and Milkshakes: the three greatest foods ever created in...ever." He smiled and eyed her again. "It's not fancy."

Brennan nodded and pointed at his chest firmly. "Stay here." And she turned around on her heel, marching back to her bedroom.

A mere ten minutes later, Brennan walked back into the living room to find Booth standing in exactly the same spot as he had been when she left him. She smiled awkwardly as his eyebrows raised and he looked up and down her body, taking in her new outfit. She'd settled on a pair of jeans and her boots with a black tight shirt and a silver chain around her neck.

Stretching her arms out at either side of her, she smiled. "Do you like?"

Booth nodded slowly and a grin stretched to show his teeth. "I love it. God, Bones. What else do you have in that closet of yours?"

Brennan frowned as a blush crept to her cheeks, much to her dismay. "So how far away is this restaurant?"

"I don't know," Booth shrugged. "About ten to twenty minutes. Give or take, depending on traffic, of course." He extended an arm and wiggled his fingers, encouraging her to take his hand. Shyly, she complied and a new smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. He winked and closed his fingers around her hand, small against his larger ones. "Come on, Bones. Let's get out of here."

She nodded and followed him out of the apartment, grabbing the purse hanging next to the door. They walked slowly down the stairs, hand-in-hand, until they got out to the parking lot to Booth's Sedan. Sliding into the passenger seat, Brennan ran her fingers over the thin silver chain around her neck, twisting it nervously as she watched Booth walk around the front of the car to his side. When he was in the seat next to her and the car was on the road, she turned to him and smiled softly.

"I ordered a new cable system the other day."

Booth laughed as he shot a look her way before glancing back at the road. "You sound so proud of yourself, Bones. So what are you getting?"

"I think it's called TyBo or something like that. Angela said that I should get it."

"You're getting TiVo?" Booth gaped at her incredulously for a long moment. "This is all so wrong, Bones. You do know that, right?"

"What's so wrong with it? I'm entitled to trivial entertainment as much as the next person, aren't I?"

"Maybe but that doesn't mean that you can go and get a plasma TV and TiVo when I'm still stuck with a twenty-five inch and lousy DirecTV. It's just rude." He smiled over at her to convey the fact that he was joking. "What are you going to do with TiVo, anyway? Record the History Channel?"

"What's wrong with that?" She cocked her head and scrunched her eyebrows together in slight annoyance.

Booth scoffed as he brought the car to a stand-still behind a tour bus. Turning to her, he ran a finger down her cheek, his lips twitching as he felt her shiver underneath his touch. "Nothing's wrong with that, Bones. But you better let me come over to enjoy it with you." His smile widened as her face flushed once again and she ducked her head in embarrassment. Looking over at her, his fingers twitched on the steering wheel with the urge to touch her. That kiss back in apartment had not been planned. He had been as shocked as she when he grabbed her and pulled her against him but it would have felt wrong to just let her go. So he'd decided on a little banter and maybe a lingering gaze but when she had brought up the news – the most innocent of topics next to the weather – he had suddenly been overcome with the urge to take full control over her body.

But he'd been more than content with a kiss.

And the glazed look in her eyes was enough verification of her enjoyment for him to decide to kiss her again later that evening.

"Booth!"

Brennan was waving a hand in front of his face and as he turned to look at her annoyed expression the sounds of angry drivers came to his ears. He'd forgotten to drive and the light was green. "Oh," Booth said sheepishly as he pressed the gas pedal and eased the car forward and around the corner. "Sorry about that. Lost track of where I was for a moment."

"That's a dangerous habit, Booth," Brennan commented as she settled back into her seat and folded her arms over her breast. "Next time you do that you could get cause an accident."

"I'm sorry, Bones," Booth said somberly, pressing a hand over his heart and casting a smile over at her. "I'll try to keep us and the car in one piece."

She nodded. "That would be good."

Smirking, Booth leaned back in the seat as they hit another red light. After a moment of silence, he looked back over at her and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "How about we play a game while we wait in this God-forsaken traffic?"

Brennan looked over at him incredulously and let out a small laugh of laughter. "A _game_ Booth? What kind of game are you suggesting?"

"How about 20 Questions?"

"I've never heard of it."

"You haven't heard of 20 Questions?" It was Booth's turn to look incredulous.

"No. What is it?"

"Well," Booth sighed deeply as he eased the car slowly down a small back street. "Usually one person picks something – like a person, a place, a thing, whatever – and the other person gets to ask twenty questions about it. If the person guessing can come up with what the thing then they win. But I think that in this case I am going to make a few modifications. You ask a question abut me – anything you like – and I answer truthfully. Then it's my turn. How about it?" he smiled over at her as his finger tapped on the steering wheel.

She stared at him suspiciously. "What would those questions be about?"

Booth shrugged. "Anything. Everything. It doesn't matter as long as the answer is truthful. So what do you say? Do you want to play?"

Brennan heaved a heavy sigh and paused for a long moment before slowly nodding. "Fine. Do I get to go first?"

"No." Booth grinned. "I do. First question: what's your favorite color?"

"What? My favorite color? What kind of a question is that?"

"A simple one used to lead up to larger ones." Booth chuckled and turned the car around a corner. "Just answer the question. What colors do you prefer?"

"Uh...red. I like red." She shook her head slowly. "Red or green."

"Hmm, I would have pegged you as a blue person."

"What is a blue person, Booth?" Brennan sighed, looking over at him with an amused smile tugging at her lips.

"A blue person is…a blue person. Solemn, I guess. I don't know. I guess, now that I think about it, you _are_ a red person. But not green. Red is passionate about things – their work, their family, everything. But I don't know what a green person is." He smiled and winked over at her. "Now it's my turn."

"What?" Brennan cried. "But I didn't get to ask my question!"

"Yes you did. Your question was what a blue person was. Now it's my turn. What was the most interesting place you ever visited."

"Ugh," Brennan groaned as she leaned her head back on the headrest and gazed at the ceiling. "China," she muttered slowly. "Or India. They were both very intriguing. I loved hiking the Great Wall and walking around the streets of rural India. And the locals in both areas were something different all together. They had so many stories to tell and it was sometimes frightening how different their society is from ours. I knew it was that way but I never knew the full extent of it. There is only so much that books can tell you. You have to see for yourself."

The car came to a stop and Brennan looked out the window to see that they were pulling into a parking lot in front of a small restaurant.

"Don't tell me that you know the owners of this place too, Booth," she sighed as he turned off the car.

"Nah. I don't think that it's a privately owned place. I've only come here twice before. I've been wanting to come back for ages but never had an opportunity." He unbuckled and opened the car door. "Come on." Brennan followed in his suite, unbuckling and slipping out of the car, closing the door before Booth could get around the front to help her.

They walked together up a small stone path and through a set of wood and glass doors into a dark waiting room filled with soft jazz music. A waiter took their names and looked down in his book, saying, "Ah! Mr. Booth. Follow me this way and I'll show you to your table." They were led to a small booth that sat against a glass wall. It was lighter back her, with large windows on the other side. When the were comfortably seated, Brennan stared at her menu and chewed on her bottom lip.

"So what about you, Booth?" she asked, glancing only for a moment over the top of her menu. "Where is the most interesting place that you've ever been to?"

Booth laughed softly as he closed his menu and set it down, apparently already decided. "I haven't been to exotic places like you have, Bones. I think the most interesting place that I've been to would have to be Auschwitz. I went there one summer and visited the concentration camps."

Brennan nodded. "I've been there."

"It's like the skeleton of a million peoples' hopes, lives, and dreams, isn't it?" Booth shook his head sadly before reaching over a tapping her menu. "I'd try the chili-fries. They're excellent."

"Yeah, okay," she muttered as she closed the plastic menu. Looking up, she met the eyes of a small waitress with a wide smile. Tapping on Booth's hand, she nodded at the girl.

Booth looked up and gave the girl a grin. "Hello."

The girl seemed taken aback by his charm smile and Brennan remembered the first time that he shot it in her direction. She pitited the girl but when she saw her obvious size under her uniform and her blatant ardor for Booth, that pity soon evaporated and her eyes flicked warily to Booth, trying to gauge his reaction. He was looking at her and she instinctively ducked her head in embarrassment.

"Are you ready to order now or do you need more time? I could go get you some drinks if you'd like that." The girl was speaking fast, her face visibly red and her eyes resting only on Booth. "Oh!" she gasped and shook her head in embarrassment. "My name is Kitty and I will be your server today." The flush grew until her cheeks resembled the color of a cherry. Brennan swallowed a smile.

"I think we're ready, don't you Bones?" Booth was staring at Brennan intently, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. When she nodded, he looked briefly up at the girl and handed her the menus. "I'd like the steak-burger with fries and a coke. She wants the chili fries and…" he glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Usual Coke?" She nodded and his smile widened a bit more. "And a coke with lemon slices in it."

The girl nodded, writing a note on her pad before she grasped the menus and gave him an award-winning smile. "I'll be right back with your drinks, then!" and she walked quickly away, back towards the kitchens.

"So. It's my turn, isn't it?"

It took a moment for Brennan to understand the meaning of his words but realization dawned quickly enough and she nodded slowly. "Yes."

"What's your favorite holiday?"

Brennan sighed as her finger made small circles on the table. "I don't really know, actually. You already know my views on Christmas…"

"Christmas Killer," Booth sighed, nodding knowingly.

"And most of the other ones are for children. Our modern Halloween is simply the candy companies exploiting one of the more historically fascinating holiday to gain money and in the process they slandered a perfectly innocent tradition and made it seem evil. And my opinion of Easter is quite similar to that of Christmas. So what else is there?"

Booth groaned and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Can't you ever just enjoy something, Bones? Like the lights during Christmas and the decorations on Halloween? Sometimes things can just be fun for the heck of it."

"I can so enjoy things for the heck of it!" Brennan said slowly as the waitress set their glasses in front of them.

"Really? Give me two examples."

"No. It's my turn to ask the question." She smiled and leaned forward across the table. Her hands moved to rest on her lap as she thought of a good question to ask him. Booth watched her, a tightness forming in his stomach at the look of concentration on her face and the way that her eyes narrowed as she debated. Finally, a smile touched her eyes and she looked up with realization. "What is your favorite candy?"

Booth let out a bark of laughter as he sat back and took a sip of his drink. "Jelly Beans. I love jelly beans."

Brennan smiled as she mimicked his movements, sitting back in her chair. "Your turn," she said as she mentally calculated her next couple of questions and deciding that she might actually grow to enjoy this game.

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**Not positive if I like this chapter but it was needed for the next couple. Some things were started, touches were exchanged...it was all very subtle-ish. Next chapter will have a little more Hodgela and the finale of the date. Where will it all lead? I don't know. :-) This thing is writing itself here. **

**Deamon**

**(Reviews feed my soul. And if you don't give a damn about my soul then they also feed my pretty little kitty, Snow White. O.O meow)**

**(And they feed my imaginary people.)**


	5. At The Zoo

**YEAH! I finished this chapter before my deadline! Now I can breath easily. This is kind of a transition chapter. Please review after you read to tell me whether or not you want the rating bumped up. I've got a couple of ideas but may have to postpone the next chapter to work on a Twilight fic. It came to me when I went to see Stephenie Meyer at her book signing. (and PS: she was AMAZING!) So I am going to be working on an angst fic for Bella and Edward. Hopefully a one-shot but I am bad at doing that... **

**Chapter Rating: T  
**

**Chapter Five**

_**A/N: This story takes place about a year and a half after this season. So basically two and a half since the beginning of the show. That way, they have more of a relationship established. And there is no such thing as Camille. (That devil woman. ROAR!)**_

Brennan stared at the large sign in front of her with incredulity. "The Zoo, Booth?"

"Uh-uh," Booth smiled down at her and zipped his coat up. "It's not your turn to ask the question. And you didn't answer mine. What is your favorite animal?"

"Booth, why are we at the Zoo?" Brennan crossed her arms over her breast and frowned up at him. "It's cold and you expect me to walk around outside just to look at a sleeping lion?"

"First off, Bones, there are more than just lions here. And second, almost everything is inside now this time of year. Third: what's wrong with the zoo? Do you have a phobia or something because if you do we could totally turn around right now and get back in the car. And finally: you still haven't answered my question."

"I like panda bears. And no, I don't have a phobia, I just don't understand why you took me here."

"I like the zoo, Bones, and besides they have lights up so when it starts to get dark it'll get really pretty out. So what's the problem? They have really good ice cream." He wiggled his eyebrows and Brennan couldn't stop a short laugh from escaping.

"Fine, Booth. Let's just get going before I freeze my tail end off out here."

"We wouldn't want that, would we?" Booth smiled as he slipped his hand around her waist and led her up toward the entrance. "Now, it's your turn to ask the question, isn't it?"

Brennan took a moment of silence to get used to the feel of his arm around her before speaking. He had done such things the entire afternoon: holding her hand at the table for a moment or two while she spoke; brushing his hand down her back; things that usually meant nothing to her when someone else did it but now it sent a tingling sensation all over her body. It wasn't entirely unwelcome but it was frightening that her body welcomed his touch so much already. "Have you ever gone to a musical and, if so, what is your favorite?"

"That's two questions, Bones. It's not allowed." Booth smiled down at her and she felt the now-familiar blush creeping up to cover her face.

"Just answer, Booth."

Booth sighed in mock resignation as he moved his arm from her waist and dug in his pocket for his credit card which he handed to a small man sitting in the ticket booth. "I have gone to musicals and I would definitely say that my favorite is the Phantom of the Opera. It's unrivaled. What about you?"

"I've seen the Phantom of the Opera and I enjoyed it but I would have to say that Wicked is my favorite."

"Is that the one about the Wicked Witch of the West?"

"Yes. I saw it a couple months ago with David." She trailed off, a frown crossing her features. "That was the night that he proposed to me."

Booth nodded with a sigh. Now that he thought about it he remembered he remembered her mentioning the day before the fateful night that she was going to see it. "Why did you say no?"

Brennan's frown deepened and her forehead creased. "You already know my standing when it comes to marriage, Booth."

"Yeah, yeah. It's not in the best interest of the species but did you know that many other animals dedicate themselves to one mate and one mate only? The gorilla, for instance, or the penguin."

"I'm hardly a penguin, Booth."

"Maybe not but all of those species are doing O.K. Why do you think that it wouldn't be that way with humans? And besides: Earth is getting a little crowded, don't you think?" He smiled playfully and reached for her hand, twining his fingers with hers.

"A romantic like you, Booth, shouldn't accepting of marriage. Don't you find it terribly unromantic that the entire relationship relies on a simple piece of paper?

"That piece of paper doesn't make it less romantic, Bones. It gives the couple something to fall back on. If a couple of four years began to have problems and yet weren't married then they would be able to leave each other without any repercussions. They would go and make mistakes and find somebody else just to spite the other. But when you are married you have to think about what you are doing. It takes time and effort to divorce and if a couple really loves each other they won't make that kind of mistake. That piece of paper helps a couple reevaluate their relationship and patch up small problems and even some bigger ones. Granted, it doesn't work with many couples and marriage shouldn't be approached unless you are absolutely certain, but it _can_ be terribly romantic."

"You've put a lot of thought into it, haven't you?" Brennan said slowly. Her frown was gone and she looked bemused.

"Well of course. I did propose to Rebecca when I found out she was pregnant with Parker. She refused, obviously, and I can't say that I am kind of glad that she did." He squeezed her hand and her heart fluttered at the implication of his words. To cover her embarrassment, she thought of another question.

"Why did you decide to play twenty questions?"

Booth chuckled as he led her down a small path leading to a building with a large whale painted on the front. "Because I realized a while back that I knew next to nothing about your life and I decided that this was the best way to find out what I wanted to."

Brennan's mouth formed a small "o" as she mulled that over.

"My turn. Have you been enjoying yourself today?"

Brennan looked up at him and stopped walking. He followed her example and locked eyes with her, a small frown on his face. Her head was cocked and the crease had returned to her brow. He felt his heart speed up at the familiar look in her eye that meant that she was thinking hard and the way that her face was flushed in both a lingering embarrassment and from the cold. He knew she was ready to speak when her eyes cleared ever so slightly and she pursed her lips.

"Yes, Booth," she said, her voice soft. "I have enjoyed myself. I've enjoyed this game and I've enjoyed your company. I think I've done more talking today than I ever have outside of work since…ever." She smiled gently and her fingers, still entwined in his, tightened just a little bit. Booth smiled and his breath came out in a whoosh of relief.

"I'm glad." His free hand rose to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "You know, I've wanted to ask you on a date since we started working together, don't you?" he grinned in amusement when she shook her head in shock. "Yeah, but first there was Tessa and then David and there was just never an opportunity. But last night? I've been craving that kiss since the first time that I saw you. First it was just to see what it was like to kiss a woman like you and then it became…more. It became a need. Every time I kissed Tessa it was you that I wanted to be holding. Every time that I saw you and David holding hands I wanted to be in his place. And almost every night I would fall asleep and banish the horrible images of the day with your face."

He paused to let her absorb this information. Her eyes were wide and her face was once again warm with embarrassment. She looked away from him to the darkening sky above them and inhaled deeply. She wondered to herself when they had reached such a level of trust that he was saying such personal things. It was both uncomfortable and liberating to have someone speak to her like this and give her the chance to do so as well. He was giving her a chance to address the way she felt – something no one except her brother had ever done for her before. It felt liberating and frightening at the same time.

The thing that scared her was the shocking way that their platonic relationship was being approached so swiftly with little to no warning beforehand. Before yesterday she had only her late-night dreams of his lips on hers. Never before had she dared to believe that it would ever really happen but here she was, holding hands and talking about innermost feelings. And he'd kissed her twice already.

It felt like she'd run into a brick wall and was sent careening backward to land on her butt.

But maybe it wasn't so unexpected. Maybe it hadn't been her imagination that his gaze often lingered longer than per usual. Maybe her feelings – however unwelcome they had been in the beginning and how reluctantly she'd accepted them – had not been unrequited as she had so believed. Maybe this had been in front of her face the entire time but the shroud over her eyes had grown so thick that she couldn't see it.

She had long ago gotten over how unethical the relationship would be, if it were ever to actually develop. As she wrote her novels and watched the tension grow between her two characters, so she felt the tension towards this man grow. And soon she found herself wishing that she was Kathy and that she had Booth chasing after her just like Andy.

But maybe it wasn't just a dream. Maybe it could be real if she let it. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Too many damn maybes," Brennan growled to herself, not realizing that she'd spoken aloud. When she heard Booth's dark chuckle, she looked back at him.

It was snowing now and a few stray flakes had landed in his hair, giving her a delicious image. She felt her heart expand and a lump grow in her throat when the thought occurred to her to throw out the maybes. He'd often asked her if she ever did something spontaneous and every time she'd disregarded it as foolishness, preferring her impeccably ordered world to one that she didn't know each and ever possible outcome. Or at least have a good idea of what those would be. But now, as she watched his dark eyes now clouded with doubt that his confession had not been in vain, she threw caution to the wind.

Tipping her head up she leaned in, her lips inviting him as her eyes slid closed of their own accord. When she pressed them against his, she felt her heart stop and her face heated up once again. Her free hand had found its way to the collar of his jacket as she held her lips in place for a long minute. When she finally pulled away she opened her eyes and smiled shakily. He returned the smile with a small quirk at the corner of his mouth. His eyebrows were raised ever so slightly

"I'm not very good with words in this kind of a situation," she whispered by way of explanation. This brought a full smile to his face and her heart lurched at the sight.

"That's OK, Bones," he muttered before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. His forehead rested against her and their breath mingled in a cloud between them. "I think I get the message." Pulling her up the rest of the way he pressed his lips firmly over hers. With a tiny moan her hands moved to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair as she molded her body against his. They broke apart only briefly, gasping for breath before kissing again.

This time, as the pressed closer together, Booth flicked his tongue out to touch her lips, requesting entry. She eagerly obliged and their tongues met in a slow dance. Brennan moaned again at the contact and felt her control slipping. His hands were clutching her against him so that their bodies fit together perfectly. And from this position she could definitely tell that he was as aroused as he was by all of this. Their eyes were closed and her fingers were digging into his hair, greedily pulling him closer.

Reluctantly, Booth pulled away from her and they both sucked in a deep breath of cold air. Brennan rested her head on his shoulder as she tried to regain her equilibrium and slow her breathing. She could feel his hands on her back, stubbornly holding her in place.

When she could trust her voice, she said the only thing that came even close to summing up the turmoil of feelings. "Wow."

Booth scoffed softly as he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply. "Yeah." His moved his head and his lips skimmed her jaw before brushing across her lips. He looked into her near-silver eyes and felt something inside him click into place. And when she smiled ever so slightly, he brushed his finger across the corner of her lips and felt suddenly possessive. He didn't want anyone else to ever touch her again.

They stood, lips nearly touching, eyes locked, for a long time. It was snowing harder and the flakes swirled around them in the wind. Eventually Brennan felt herself shiver against the cold and Booth moved away. "Come on, Bones," he said with a smile. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to the large building. "We won't get to see the sharks if we go on like this."

She felt a small laugh slip past her lips as he tugged her forward with that childish smile on his face. This may progress into something more than what she would have been comfortable a year ago but so many things had changed and she knew that she didn't mind the occasional obstacle.

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**Please push the little blue button. If you push it chapter six will come (you have to read that in a deepish voice and real slow. Just so you know.)**

**Deamon**


	6. Times for Decisions and for Work

**Author's Note: I had a really hard time with this chapter. Some people said to bump the rating and get it on already...no. A lot of people said that. But I decided why spoil such a good thing? So here we have it. A couple things that I've wanted to write for a while including Brennan in complete befuddlement when it comes to technowledgy. I just can't see her being able to hook up a TV... hm... Anyway, I hope you like. I'm not sure if I am so fond of this chapter. But some important things are finally confronted in Brennan's mind and I guess that everything that happens here is important later on. Including the TV.**

**Disclaimer: Clones on Loan  
Rating: T for mild innuendo  
Spoilers: Nah. Oh, and FYI: In this little world Camille does not exist. That heinous episode where Booth became a man-whore does not exist. And again: this is four years after the first episode. They've had a very long friendship at this point.  
Summary: Booth and Brennan fix the TV.  
**

**Shout-outs: To Kelsey who endures my ramblings even though you don't watch the show. To all of you who reviewed--even if I haven't been able to write back. To R.H., the keeper and secritary of all my imaginings. And to my muse. Rayden, you are so awesome. I choose you over them all. And as for an answer to your question: Because I've been wanting to since I met you.****

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**

**Chapter Six: Times for Decisions and for Work**

"So where does this thingy go?"

"Push it into the hole with the yellow rim. Good. Now I just have to turn this thing like _that_ and…voila!" Booth grinned broadly as he stood up and looked down at his handiwork. "Now all we have to do is mount this suck on the wall and we're done!"

Brennan looked up at him from her crouching position on the floor with a slight frown on her face. "Is that all?"

"Uh…yeah. Why?" Booth wiped his hands on his pants and leaned down to grab her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"I just thought that it was more complicated than that, is all. I didn't know it could be so simple." Her frown was deepening as she looked down at the assembled TV that they had completed in less than half an hour.

"Well it's not exactly rocket science, Bones." Booth's grin widened cheekily as he moved to grab one side of the TV.

Brennan punched his shoulder playfully, a smile stretching to match his. "So what do we do with it now?"

Booth directed her on how to lift the television and rest it on the hooks that he'd drilled into the walls earlier. It took the rest of the hour to figure out how to get it high enough and when they finally finished putting it into place and drilling it secure, Booth collapsed onto the couch. His head sagged against the cushions and Brennan dropped next to him. Panting, Booth turned to look at her, his goofy smile back.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Shaking her head in agreement, Brennan turned to meet his eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. Their eyes met and locked, the laughter matching until it began to drain and the air of shared humor drifted away like mist, leaving something more serious and more intriguing behind. They sat like that for a long moment until Booth gently moved closer, his left hand raising to rest against her face. His finger rubbed across her cheekbone as he leaned ever closer, his lips closing in on hers.

Her eyes drooped closed and her lips parted expectantly but instead of kissing her on the mouth as she had expected, his lips drifted to her temple. He pressed his lips against her skin gently before moving a trail of kisses lower down her face to the cheek and the jaw. Her breath hitched and her hands fluttered to her chest and, in response, he moved his hand from her face to the back of the neck, pulling her ever closer.

Pressing the gentlest of kisses on her neck, Booth pulled back to look at her, his brown eyes filled with questions.

"Bones?" his voice was husky, even to his own ears.

"Hmm?" her eyes were still closed and the small smile had returned to her lips.

"What is this?"

Brennan opened her eyes in confusion, searching for the object in question. When she found none and he continued to stare at her she frowned and cocked her head. "What is what?"

"This," Booth said, his hand moving from the back of her neck to move back and forth between the two of them. His meaning stuck her dumb and she raised her legs onto the couch to press against her chest.

Resting her head on her knees, her brow furrowed in thought. "Well," she said slowly after a long pause. "We're partners…and we're friends."

Booth nodded in frustration and he settled his body in a more suitable position so that he could look her eye-to-eye. "But what is this? What are we doing? Is it just physical and nothing more – something that's been pent up for too long? Or is it something different; something deeper?" His mind was hazy and he had to fight against the fog to voice what had been troubling him since the night before. "I need to know, Temperance. I need you to tell me what you want before anything happens or we might both regret it later."

Brennan ducked her head, her forehead moving to her knees so that her face was hidden along with that assiduous blush. Her mind whirled and, unlike Booth, her thoughts were clear as day. Or at least they would have been if they weren't in such a snarled mess. What exactly did she want?

_Him,_ she thought as images flashed into her mind, unbidden. Banishing those thoughts before they could cloud her judgment, she tried to examine her standing with him. Yes, they had been partners for maybe four years and yes, they were close friends. But did she want to extend the parameters of that relationship or did she want to keep it as it was? And if so, how far? Something purely physical or did she want it to be a serious relationship?

As she deftly sorted through the thoughts racing through her head, she remembered a decision she had made in those few months after she broke up with David. During those first lonely nights she had had time to think about the wasted year and a half that she had spent with someone that she did not love. Yes, he was a great kisser and yes he was the kind of man that she could have an on-going friendship with but there had never really been anything more. It was cruel, she supposed, that she had led him on for so long about something so severe. And in those first few nights she had sworn to herself that she would never again live such a lie for such a long expanse of time. Never again would she lie to herself and to those around her.

But here was a chance to be one-hundred-percent honest with herself.

Was she physically attracted to this man? Of course she was. Did she respect and trust him enough to be in a relationship with him? No question about it. Did she love him?

That was the one question that ran circles in her head like a hamster on a wheel and she could almost hear the squeaking.

Some days his simple touch made her feel an overwhelming feeling of belonging; of full clarity about where she stood and who she was. But other days she just wanted to scream with frustration. Angela described it as love but Brennan wasn't so sure.

Or was she?

Cautiously, Brennan lifted her hand to brush against his bottom lip. She spoke slowly and softly as if scared of his reaction. "We're friends. We're coworkers. I trust you with my life." Her hand rested against his face, cupping his cheek gently as her thumb continued to graze his lips. "You make me feel…" she took a deep, shaky breath and started again. "You make me feel scared and safe at the same time. I feel dizzy when you smile at me. All of my reactions to your slightest touch make no logical sense whatsoever." She shook her head. "It makes no sense to _me_, at least. So when you ask what this is I don't know how to answer." Her finger stilled and her head cocked the other way and her eyes narrowed a little and Booth felt like a specimen under a microscope being scrutinized. It was only a little uncomfortable and that discomfort may have come entirely from the growing heat between his legs.

When Brennan spoke again her voice was barely above a whisper. Booth watched in fascination as a slight smile began to creep into her eyes as they opened. "But I think that I know enough to say that whatever it is I want it."

He wasn't sure exactly what did him in. The sound of her voice, the way that her hand slipped back behind his head and stroked his hair, or the way that her lips parted just a little bit as she leaned up to meet him. All that he knew was that suddenly he was unable to control his hands as he closed in and molded his lips with hers. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the feel of her hands on his arms and the sound of her soft groan. Red dots covered the back of his eyelids and his head felt light.

Pulling away for air, he gently eased her back onto the cushions of the couch. Moving so that he was straddling her waist, he smiled as his finger brushed up her bare arm and caused gooseflesh to litter her skin. Chuckling very softly at her gasp of appreciation, he leaned back down to kiss her once again.

They surfaced as little as possible, fighting their need for air with their need for contact. Brennan found her hands slipping underneath Booth's shirt as she felt the contours of his muscles. The few breaths that she took were short and ragged. She could feel the weight of him above her and with each kiss she could almost physically feel the walls that had protected her for years crumbling under his lightest touch. She could not think – did not want to – and each motion was purely dictated by desire. She barely faltered when she found her hands moving from his chest to the hem of his shirt and tugged gently and yet frantically to lift it. She had lost all her inhibition.

Booth, however, still had the small voice in the back of his head protesting this sudden turn of events. And when Brennan brought the shirt up and bit his lip to tell him to move his arms, he shook his head, kissed her a few times for good measure, and rolled off of her to the back of the couch. His body was still pressed against hers but he was able to face her and stop the movements of her hands with his own firm grip.

"No," he whispered as he moved his head to avoid her lips. Smiling softly, he pushed her away gently and shook his head. "We can't do this, Temperance. Not here and not now."

Brennan paused for a long time before nodding in agreement. "We have work tomorrow."

Booth stared at her for a moment with an indignant look on his face before a slow smile crept across his face and he began laughing. Hard.

Brennan's face hardened and she glared at him with exasperation as she tried to sit up. His hands moved to her arms to prevent her from moving. "What is so funny?" she demanded.

Booth shook his head and tried to suppress another wave of laughter but was unsuccessful.

"Why are you laughing, Booth?" Brennan demanded again, her tone more aggravated this time. Booth closed his eyes and took a deep breath, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

When he opened his eyes and began to speak his voice was decidedly monotone. "You're worried about work right now? Work, of all things, at this direct moment is the forethought in your mind?" His lips twitched again before he could stop them at the frank look on Brennan's face.

"No but it's the only thing that I can afford to think about right now." Booth let himself smile this time as he raised a hand to trace her lips.

"You're right, Bones." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers very gently and teasingly bit her bottom lips, eliciting a small moan. "What with Angela and her psychic abilities…it wouldn't be prudent."

"Actually, Booth," Brennan smiled, licking her bottom lip, "she will probably be much to preoccupied with her own affairs." Booth gave her a confused look and she nodded with a look of quiet consternation. "Hodgins slept over at her place last night."

Booth felt his eyes widen and his lips part in surprise. When he could find his voice it was once again accompanied by an under-current of laughter. "Angela and Jack are sleeping together? And how long have you known this?"

"She called me this morning. I am rather concerned about what may happen at work as a result of it."

"I doubt either of them would allow something like that to interfere with their jobs. They're too dedicated for that to happen." He smiled teasingly and wound a strand of her hair around his finger. "Although I do feel bad for Zack."

"Why?"

"He's kind of out of a loop, don't you think?"

"What do you mean, Booth?"

Booth shrugged. "Jack and Angela sleeping together – you and me…" he waved a hand in the air between the two of them and waited for her nod that signified that she understood. When it came, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, burying his face in his hair. Inhaling deeply, he made a sound of contentment. "I feel bad for the guy," he repeated as he kissed her neck tenderly.

When his lips reached the gentle spot right behind her ear, Brennan felt herself buck against him involuntarily as a surge of heat coursed through her. "Don't," she whimpered, fighting the urge to press him closer. Her ears were highly sensitive and the small voice in the back of her head was peeved that he had found the spot so soon and so easily.

Booth chuckled darkly and nipped gently at the flesh there. She gasped and her hands went instantly to his hair, her eyes closed, and her hips rose. "God, Booth," she moaned in frustration. "Don't do that."

"You don't seem to mind too much."

Brennan swore threateningly under her breath but pressed him closer as his teeth and tongue explored her skin, clearly taking pleasure in the sounds that she made. "I thought that we agreed not to do this tonight."

Booth shook his head. "No, we agreed not to do _this_:" and he pressed the length of himself against her. Her head drooped back at the increasing heat as she fought to contain herself.

"You're not helping the decision much."

Booth paused his ministrations and he pulled back, his face thoughtful. After a moment he nodded in agreement and he moved to sit up, her legs draped over his lap. "You're right."

Disappointment gushed through Brennan's veins at the loss of contact and she let loose yet another torrent of swear words in multiple languages. Crossing her arms across her chest she glowered up at him in anger, wishing that looks really could kill at that moment. "That's not fair."

"Bones," Booth spoke the nickname in such a way that a wave of gooseflesh rolled over Brennan's skin. "We have work tomorrow. You said it yourself." They stared at each other, both with the hint of a threat in their eyes. Finally, Brennan sat up slowly, her eyes never losing contact with his as she moved to sit on her knees next to him.

"Booth," she whispered, "I think we can bear to be a little tired tomorrow, don't you?" Booth barely hesitated before pressing his lips tightly against hers and immediately beginning a game of tag with their tongues.

And just at that moment the shrill sound of Booth's cell phone rang through the apartment.

Booth broke away from her, joining her in a string of explicates. Booth felt his pockets and searched the couch and the surrounding floor as Brennan fell back on the couch and glared at the ceiling. He finally located the phone on the floor where it had fallen from his pocket and he opened it, bringing it to his ear. He was unable to suppress the agitation in his voice as he answered.

"Booth." He was silent for a while as he listened to someone on the other line and, as Brennan watched his face, she knew that they were being called in. Good thing the call had come sooner than later, at least. "Yeah. Okay. I'll call her and we'll be there within the hour." He snapped the phone shut and glowered down at Brennan. "Sometimes I hate my job."

Brennan nodded in silent agreement. "Time to go?"

"Yeah. Get your stuff. I'll fill you in on the road. We're going to have to stop at my place, though."

They parted reluctantly and yet as quickly as they could, knowing that the wrong touch would start everything over again and they wouldn't be able to get to work. Booth went into the kitchen, turning on the faucet and splashing water on his face, as Brennan went into her bedroom and changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Silently, they met back in the living room and left the apartment together, the tension still lingering and still as tangible. It was time to go to work.

* * *

**So there you have it. Please give me reviews and tell me if it's okay. I find it very difficult to write good make-out scenes. It's pathetic but I find it easier to write less...consensual things, if you get my meaning. (For example: Just Another Statistic was easy compared to this.) **

**And don't you just love it when calls in the middle of something? So much better than birth control these days.**

**And P.S. I am on a quest for a beta. Please send applications (or at least tell me you're interested.) I would especially like help polishing the said make-out scenes in which I am so horrible. Thanks a ton for reading!**

**P.P.S. I am doing casework next chapter! Yeah!**

**(I use my jedi-mind thing-a-ma-bob to compel you into pushing that little blue/gray button)**


	7. Girl In The Warehouse

**Here we go. Chapter Seven. I had a hell of a time getting this thing written up. Chapter Seven is my unlucky chapter. I decided to make a change. Please prevent from yelling at me when you stee who is still alive... **

**Disclaimer: Clones on Loan.  
Rating: Very low T for this chapter...  
Spoilers: Very slight ones for the second season...  
Summary: Girl is found in a warehouse.  
Shout-outs: To all of you who reviewed. Especially to netopia and Bella-mi-amore. And to the rest of you, of course. Please continue submitting your wonderful reviews!**

**On with the show! **

**Chapter Seven: The Girl in the Warehouse**

"How are you holding up, Bones?"

Brennan looked up at Booth from her couch. He was leaning against her desk, his legs crossed in front of him as he held a paper cup filled with what was probably his sixth cup of coffee.

Stifling a yawn, Brennan crossed her arms over her eyes and thought for a moment. "I'm exhausted. I haven't slept since about twenty four hours ago and I'm running off of caffeine."

"Probably not the healthiest thing, is it?" Booth smiled crookedly as his lifted his own cup of coffee in a salute before draining the rest of it and tossing it into the trashcan.

"No. It's not."

Glancing at his watch, Booth took a deep breath. "It's five in the morning, Bones. We've been working for nearly six hours. Tell me again why they couldn't wait until the shift started?"

"Hasn't Dr. Saroyan already explained it to you multiple times?"

"Maybe I want to hear it from somebody who isn't able to stay up for three days straight and has some kind of real sense about the time of day. And besides: Your technical babble keeps me awake."

"It's not babble, Booth."

"Whatever. Just talk to me, okay? Caffeine can only do so much for me." He moved to the couch and motioned for her to move. She lifted her head a bit and waited for him to sit down before putting a pillow on his lap and lying down.

"If we had not arrived when we had then the snow would have possibly destroyed the integrity of the remains," she said slowly, her eyes closing as his fingers stroked her hair. It had been a long morning. "Although I agree with you: it probably could have waited until morning."

"And what have you deduced about the body?" Booth closed his eyes as well and leaned his head back onto the couch.

"We have a Caucasian female in her late teens. The amount of decomposition in relation to the temperature and location of the body indicates that she has been dead for about a week and a half. When Angela gets here I am going to give her the skull. It is in good condition and should be fairly easy for her to reconstruct. And there was trace evidence under her fingernails so I'll have Hodgins and Zack run those. The bones are being cleaned right now."

"What about identification?"

"Her teeth are intact so I sent X-rays to be matched in case Angela's reconstruction doesn't correspond with any missing-person's reports."

"It sounds like it'll be easy then."

"Booth," Brennan sighed, her fingers moving to intertwine with his, "this job is never easy. You know it took me two and a half to secure the scene and do a recovery. Then it took me another three to do the autopsy."

"Don't go on the defensive, Bones," Booth chuckled. He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed against them tenderly. "I just wish that we could have waited a few hours before coming in today."

"It's not like we would have gotten much sleep anyway, even if that call hadn't come until morning." She grinned coyly and before Booth could respond a knock at the door cut him off short. Sitting up swiftly, Brennan pulled her hand back into her lap and cleared her throat. "Come in."

Zack Addy opened the door and poked his head inside. Raising his hands by way of offering he revealed two cups of coffee. "I got your message Dr. Brennan."

"Zack," Brennan smiled as she stood from the couch. "You didn't have to come in. You had another two or three hours."

"And how long have you been here?"

Shrugging the question off, Brennan moved to take the offered coffee. Sipping it, she inhaled deeply, a slow smile spreading. "Mmm…hazelnut and vanilla. Thank you, Zack."

He nodded before handing Booth the other cup. "Who gave you a ride?" Booth asked, cocking his head and took a sip of the coffee.

"Hodgins. He's downstairs now on the phone." Zack looked over at Brennan with a question in his eyes. "He was driving Angela's car when he picked me up."

Brennan choked on the coffee and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "So where is Angela?"

Zack shrugged and before he could ask more questions Hodgins had poked his head through the door. "Good morning, sunshine," he sung with a large smile spread across his face.

"It's not sunny out yet," Brennan objected into her coffee. She couldn't prevent her eyes from surveying the man with curiosity. Had he really been at Angela's all of Sunday? Probably: He was wearing the same clothes that she had seen him in on Friday.

"Angela will be here in about forty-five minutes. I just got off the phone with her." He waggled his tiny cell phone in the air before slipping it in his pocket. Turning his gaze over at Booth, he smiled. "How was _your_ weekend?"

Booth smiled. "Eventful."

"Really? Mine was too. What a coincidence."

Brennan made a small sound of protest and the smiles on their faces widened. She glared at them reprovingly with her arms crossed over her chest. Zack stood in the middle, staring back and forth between them, a look of utter confusion painted all over his face.

"This is going to be a fun week, don't you thing?" Booth asked, his smile widening even further. Hodgins nodded in agreement.

"It most certainly is."

- - -

"An African-American Jane Doe was found last night in an abandoned warehouse that was scheduled to be demolished at noon today. She was found by a small crew of the workers who were doing a preliminary search, one of two that would ensure that no one was inside, and they found her in a back corner of a room in the top floor. Unfortunately she was in an area where she was easily reached by the elements and it had to be called in as soon as humanly possible." Dr. Camille Saroyan pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut.

It was now 6:00 AM and everyone was gathered around, sitting with cups of coffee cradled in their hands. Booth and Brennan stared blankly at the air in front of them as they struggled to keep their eyes open. Angela stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Hodgins. They were the only two that looked reasonably awake.

"I do have one question:" Angela said, her arms crossed over her breast, "where exactly was the body that it was so susceptible to the elements that we had to come in at such a God-forsaken hour?"

Camille smiled wryly and shook her head, leaning against the steel bar behind her. "That's what they told me. But the man who owns the demolition crew was on a tight schedule and I don't think that the fact that he is close personal friends with a senator really hurt his rank of priorities." She let her smile fall to a slight frown as she shook her head. "Believe me: I don't want to be here any more than any of you but we had to get Booth and Brennan out here ASAP before they guy went A-wall on us."

"Who is this guy?" Hodgins grunted with a frown.

"Robert Leeward. I've never heard of him but he and Senator Cornwall grew up together and apparently the guy wanted to get home to the wife and kids so he sent in a distress signal to the senator." Camille smiled again. "But we can pray that this is easily solved. I want to get home as soon as humanly possible."

"I don't believe in prayer," Brennan mumbled as she ducked back into her coffee. "It is a meaningless process."

"Whatever," Camille sighed, obviously not in the mood.

- - -

Brennan stared at the body lying on the table in front of her. Jane Doe number 39583 was lying on the sterile aluminum table, her arms at her side and her skull propped up on a cushion for better viewing. She had sent fibers to Hodgins and skin tags found under the fingernails to Zack to be analyzed. Angela had just returned the skull just a few minutes ago after examining it. And for the past few hours Brennan had been bending over the table, noting any abnormalities that might indicate identification.

Looking up at the clock, she groaned. It was 11:30. Time for lunch. Removing her gloves, she dropped them into a trash can and started for her office, mentally calculating the pros and cons for the different restaurants in the immediate area. When she opened her office door and saw Booth sitting in her chair holding up a tempting-smelling bag of Mexican take-out. Waggling his eyebrows, he gave her one of those charm smiles that sent a thrill up her spine.

"You've been wearing your eyes out for the past four hours, Bones. I thought that I was going to have to get you out of there myself." He stood and moved to close the door behind her. Setting the bag down on the couch, he turned to her and captured her lips in his.

For a moment she was about to shove him away. Her eyes widened and her hands moved to his shoulders in an attempt to push him. But when his hands traveled to the small of her back and tenderly pressed against her closer, she let her eyes close and her hands move instead to the back of his neck. And as she opened her mouth and let him in she felt the tension in her muscles flowing down her body and out of her toes.

When they surfaced for air her breath was ragged and her face flushed.

"I was expecting you to hit me," Booth quipped softly. She let out a breath of exasperation and moved her hands to his shoulders.

"I was going to. Don't kiss me at work, Booth. I don't care how well you kiss. I won't be able to concentrate for an hour now, thanks to you." She frowned and tucked his hair behind her ear.

"Does that mean you're admitting I'm a good kisser?" Booth was grinning and at the sight her frown deepened. Quickly, she changed the subject.

"What did you bring for lunch?"

Booth chuckled and he reluctantly released her. Turning to the couch he picked up the bag to reveal his spoils.

- - -

"Dr. Brennan. Excuse me, Dr. Brennan."

"Go away," Brennan mumbled, trying to slip back into the silent stupor that she had just barely been able to obtain. She turned to press her face into the back cushions of the couch and found not soft material but hard flesh. Her eyes flew open and she yelped, rolling off the couch in surprise. When she was able to gather her equilibrium enough to sit, she looked around in confusion.

She was in her office, the lights were off, and Zack had his head poking through the doorway. On the couch, Booth was stretched out, his eyes opened to slits as he gazed down at her, an amused smirk on his face. She vaguely remembered sitting down with him to relax after lunch. A glance at the clock told her that that had been an hour ago.

"What's happening, Zack?" she muttered, trying to banish the sleep from her voice.

Zack looked apologetic, making a point not to look at Booth. "We decided it was best not to wake you until we had all of our results ready."

"And?" she groaned, wiping a hand over her eyes.

"Angela has the face, the results of the skin follicles have arrived, Hodgins has identified the foreign fibers found in the throat, and I've figured the cause of death." He paused, frowning slightly. "Are you ready to come and check our findings?"

Brennan nodded sleepily and put her hand on the couch, hoisting herself off the floor. Booth groaned and swung his legs over the edge of the couch, standing up next to her. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he led her out of the office, his fingers discreetly rubbing against the exposed flesh below the hem of her shirt.

- - -

"Meet Jane Doe number 39583." Angela pressed a button and a girl's face appeared above them in the simulation module. "Five foot, four and approximately fifteen or sixteen years old."

"That puts this under FBI jurisdiction," Booth acknowledged with a nod of appreciation.

"She's a pretty girl," Brennan whispered. But that didn't matter. No one cared what you looked like once you were dead. All that standing in front of a mirror worrying about the way that your hair fell or fretting over that large zit on your nose no longer mattered once you were dead. "Our findings match, then. Her dental work indicates that she is about fifteen—and so does the markings on her skull."

"That puts this under FBI jurisdiction," Booth acknowledged with a nod of appreciation.

"What about identification?" Camille stood on the opposite side of the simulator.

"We got a couple of hits in the system for young African-American girls in the tri-state area." Booth pulled out a few print-outs and handed them to Brennan. "But she doesn't look anything like any of these girls."

Brennan nodded. "Widen the search a few states. Maybe we'll get a hit then." She turned to Hodgins. "So what do you have?"

Hodgins lifted his hand and crooked his finger in a gesture to follow him. Together, they filed out of the room and into the main area of the lab and then to the desk with Hodgins' microscope. Brennan pressed her eyes against it and stared at the object in the lens for a long time until rising and letting Booth take a look. When he was done, Hodgins handed them his own print-outs.

"It's a synthetic fiber commonly found on bed sheets and pillowcases. Since it was in her throat I would hazard a guess that she was smothered."

"That's not consistent with the rest of the evidence. I found a star-shaped that indicates that something was rammed into the base of her skull right at the top of her spinal cord."

"Have you come up with any matches to the pattern?"

Zack walked over to the computer, pressed a few keys, and turned the screen towards them so they could see. "The pattern matches that of a Phillips-head screwdriver. It is my guess that someone thrust it into her neck, instantly killing her."

"Then what about the fibers in her lungs and throat? Where did they come from?" Booth ran a hand through his in concentration.

Hodgins shrugged. "Maybe someone was intending to smother her but failed. So, to finish the job thoroughly, he slammed the screwdriver into the head. Finishes her off nice and quick."

Brennan nodded. "Maybe," she mused, staring back at the computer. She stood there for a long moment, her mind trying to discern the girl's last few hours from the little that she already knew. "What about the skin under her fingernails?"

Zack shook his head in disappointment. "No matches. But it is definitely foreign skin. Not her own. And the vaginal swab yielded seamen, indicating sex soon before her death. Or soon after." He cringed visibly at the thought. "And the fractures on the pubic bones suggest that she was indeed raped."

"Great," Booth sighed. "Fifteen years old. Is there nothing that children these days aren't susceptible to anymore?"

Brennan shook his head and ran a finger over the computer screen. "No," she whispered. "No, there isn't."

- - -

Booth stared at the paper in his hands, dismay spreading from his fingertips to his toes as he stared at the face staring straight back at him. "Keiley Darrow," he whispered, feeling the name on his tongue. He was holding a print-out of a police report filed a month ago by the authorities in a small town in Ohio. There had been no leads, no body, and no evidence to suggest anything except a teenage girl running away from an oppressing home.

But now there was. And the dental records on his desk in front of him proved it.

"Booth?"

Booth looked up in surprise. Camille stood there, her arms down at her sides and a green blazer on, zipped up for protection against the biting wind outside. "What are you doing over here, Camille?" he asked. He'd never seen her set foot inside the FBI building. At least not inside his office.

"I just got done talking to your boss. We scheduled a flight for you and Dr. Brennan tomorrow so you can head out to Ohio and get a handle on this thing."

Booth nodded slowly, his brow furrowed slightly as he tried to figure out what the real reason was that she was here standing in his office. "Why are you telling me?"

"I want you to take Zack with you."

"You want me to baby sit?" Booth's voice was indignant as he thought of toting the Squint around.

"He needs real field experience, Booth. Everyone's had it now except for him and now that he is no longer Dr. Brennan's assistant—"

"He hasn't been her assistant for almost six months now."

"Exactly. And he still hasn't been out on the field. This seems a pretty simple case compared to some of the ones we've had to deal with recently so I have come to the conclusion that it is perfect for him."

Booth shook his head. "Have you run this by Bones?"

"Yes and she agreed after a little bit of persuasion."

Booth suppressed a groan. Not only would they have to deal with a Squint but what were the chances that he would be able to pull something off with Brennan without getting caught? Not that he would ever try, of course, he assured himself quickly. Just hypothetically. "Will I have to share a room with him?"

Camille nodded. "Of course. Why waste money one an extra room?"

"Isn't there a policy against agents sharing a room?"

"You're the same sex, Booth."

"But hasn't it occurred to you that one of us might not care about that?" His tone was suggestive and he smiled mischievously.

Camille did a little eye-sweep up and down his body and a small smirk tugged at her lips. "Never occurred to me. You better get packing, though. Your flight leaves at seven."

**Ah, Camille. I let you live. But at a price. You shall find out soon enough but before I get yelled at for keeping her alive: she isn't going to be a problem ever again. **

**Next chapter is humor/romance/casework. I've gone over the case meticulously even before writing the story chapters so if you see any flaws PLEASE inform me so I can fix it. Please.**

**And please push the buttons. Reviews feed my soul and you don't want me to die, do you? You won't get to find out what happens with Booth and Brennan if you let me die... My ghost doesn't know how to spell...**


	8. Ohio

**This chapter, I am sad to say, has very few "moments" between our dynamic duo. Its use is mainly to establish the case. But I am proud of it nonetheless. And I think that this might be a good time to tell you all that this is my first attempt at writing a case and I'm not about to make it overly intricuit or anything. But there will be something freaking awesome coming along. For those of you that know me: I can't keep the guns out for too long in a story like this. **

**Rating: T for mild language  
Disclaimer: Cloans on a loan... Everyone in this story is either from the show or a real person. Even the school is real. If you go to Groveport then please forgive my feeding the flames of our bad reputation but I couldn't use Pickerington because that just isn't realistic. (The damn prudes...) And please note the nod at the marching band's latest victory. Got a one at state. YEAH!!  
Summary: Booth, Brennan, and Zack follow a lead to the great OHIO. It doesn't take long to make a connection between said big O to D.C.  
Spoilers: None.  
Note to the Loyal readers: Just for those of you who wanted to know: Zack was not sent by Camille to prevent anything from happening between Booth and Brennan. She has no clue about what has been going on between them, and neither does Zack. For now. **

**Shout-outs: Netopia, for one. I love your reviews! And to jaed621, audrey, and caroldpd. You will see Cam get her just desserts. Soon. Just wait. And THANK YOU to goldpiece and siapom for your perfectness in supporting my CBPC response. Just so ya'll know: I GOT FIRST PLACE! (don't mean to brag but that was my first attempt and it turned out great! big hugs all around)**

**Ok, ok. I'll start the story now. Sheesh...  
**

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**Chapter Eight: Ohio**

"Groveport High School," Brennan sighed as he brought the Mercedes to rest in front of the main doors to the building. It was built with dark brick and was obviously old. The large sign on the grass next to the busy street in front of the school blinked red letters welcoming them to the district and informing them of the marching band's latest victory. Booth turned the car into the parking lot and sat it between a brown Cadillac and a gray Honda.

"Doesn't seem like a very foreboding place, does it?" Booth turned off the car and gave Brennan a small frown.

"Um, Agent Booth," Zack leaned forward to poke his head in between the front seats. "Appearance rarely means anything in such a place as a school."

"Yeah, I know, I know." Booth rolled his eyes to the ceiling and groaned. "Don't judge a book by its cover."

"Booth," Brennan returned his earlier frown. "Zack wasn't talking about a book."

"Whatever." He groaned again and reached for the door handle. "And I thought that having just one annoying, over-analytical Squint was bad. This is about two-hundred times worse." Before either Zack or Brennan could respond he opened the door and slipped out, slamming it behind him. Giving each other an exasperated look, each silently telling the other one not to pay the ignorant any mind, Zack and Brennan turned and opened the car doors to follow Booth up to the black double doors and into the building.

- - -

Booth slid the paper across the wood desk and tapped it. The man sitting opposite him stared down at the picture, a look of consternation slowly tugging at his features. Slowly, he nodded to himself and sat back in his chair. His hand moved to stoke the smoothness of his bald head in distress as his eyes flicked between Brennan, Booth and Zack. "Keiley Darrow," he sighed, confirming the identity. "Where did you find her?"

"About thirty-five hours ago in Washington D.C." Booth mirrored the principal's actions by leaning back against his own chair.

"We estimate that she's been dead for twelve days or so." Brennan said, nodding at the paper.

Principal Beck, a middle-aged man with a pot-belly and thick glasses, stared back across the table at them. "Have you spoken to her mother?"

Booth nodded. They had made a detour on the way to the school and spoken briefly to the mother. As soon as she heard her daughter was dead she'd rolled her eyes to the heavens and said a quite prayer to her god before grabbing her purse and insisting that she needed to go to work but that, by all means, they should do whatever they could to figure out what she did. That was if it wasn't self-inflicted. Booth had spent the half-hour ride to the school listening to the pensive silence emanating from Brennan.

"I wouldn't think that she was at all very helpful." The principal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut as if fighting off a migraine.

"No, she wasn't. But if you don't mind I have a few questions to ask you."

"By all means." The principal waved a hand in the air. "Whatever I can do to help you, just ask."

Booth nodded in appreciation. Glancing at the nameplate on the desk to clarify the man's name in his mind, he sorted out the questions that he wanted to ask, always careful not to offend somebody. "Did Keiley have any disciplinary problems?"

The man snorted. "Of course. She was the type of girl who thought herself to be a—what do you call it?—gothic child but in reality I could tell that she was a child starved for attention."

"How so?"

"She would wear all black, noisily blanching from the mention of the color pink—I know this because she was sent down to my office because she very rudely refused to wear the color at the Choral contest—and nearly once a week I would receive her headphones from one of the teachers because she was blaring Korn too loudly during a test. Basically she showed all the signs of a wannabe-gothic student." A thin smile tugged wearily at the corner of his lips. "I know that that sounds injudiciously bad of me to say—probably something that only one of the students should say—but that is precisely the vibe I got from her. You see, I know a bit more about her home life than she knew. One of her closest friends often confided in me about her and a few things were said that I have never spoken to another living person."

"And what kinds of things do you mean?" Brennan leaned forward in her chair, casting a glance at Zack to make sure he was OK.

"Well, a couple of years ago she was taken to court a couple of years ago by her parents. They were seeking to no longer have custody over her and consequently she missed a lot of school because of it. As you can obviously tell they did not succeed in their endeavor but I believe that, from what her friend has told me, that was the last straw. After that Keiley began going out to one of the elementary schools and drinking. Her friend was terribly concerned that something terrible would happen while she was intoxicated and it soon did."

"What sort of things?" Booth was the one to interject the question this time.

"One time she woke up in her bed with no recollection of how she got there and yet she could tell that something had happened…if you catch my drift." He waited for Booth's nod before continuing. "And another time she granted favors for a guy that she knew. Something that she told her friend she never would have done if she were sober. And yet another time she got into a fight with some of the girls." He sighed, his hand moving back to stroke his bald spot. "Her friend was terrified for her but no matter what she did to try and convince her friend to stop—she tried pleading, scare tactics, and anger—it never worked and Keiley just blocked it out. I acted optimistic in front of this friend but I knew that something bad was going to happen sooner or later." He heaved another sigh. "I just wish I could have done something more for her." His eyes darkened as something hit him. "What am I going to tell her friend?"

"You can leave that to us, Mr. Beck if you like. We are going to need to talk to this girl anyway." Booth pulled out a small pad of paper and a pen and slid it across the desk. "Can you write down her name and her classroom number for us?"

The man hesitated only briefly before nodding. "I'm going to have to call her parents and inform them that you are speaking to her."

Booth nodded in return. "But please remind them that it is not a formal interrogation. We just need to ask her a few questions about Keiley."

Making a small noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat, Mr. Beck turned to his computer and struck a few keys on the keyboard, waiting for a moment while a schedule flashed onto the screen. When he had the information he turned back to them and wrote the girl's name and a classroom number down on the paper. "Do you need any help finding your way around?"

Booth glanced at the room number and shook his head. "No. I think we can find it pretty easily."

"Come and tell me if you need anything. I would come with you myself if I didn't have to make some phone calls to the girl's mother and to Keiley's father." He sighed again, giving his hands a morose look. Booth nodded to Brennan and she in turn nodded to Zack and together they rose from their seats and filed out of the office and made their way through the main office. When they were in the hallway, Booth handed Brennan the paper.

"How are we going to be able to find her?" Zack asked, poking his head in between the two of them, staring at the paper.

"Because that is the room number right across the hall." Booth pointed at the door on the other side of the hallway almost directly opposite the office.

Zack looked up and his lips formed a small "o" of realization. "How did you know that?"

"I didn't." Booth sighed as he tucked the paper back into his jacket pocket and turned to Brennan. "Do you want to get her or should I?"

Brennan pursed her lips before giving Booth a cursory glance. "Me."

"Okay." Booth watched her eyes darken as she pulled out the picture of Keiley from her pocket and stared at it for a long minute. He tried not to reach out and touch her hair. He'd sensed from the moment that the principal had suggested that the girl's parents hadn't wanted her a cloud of animosity toward them cover her. Before he could forget that Zack was standing there awkwardly watching and pull her into an embrace, she tucked the photo away and turned to the door. Quickly, she strode across the hall and knocked sharply.

"Come in." A woman's voice beckoned Brennan and she turned the handle. It was an art room. Her eyes scanned the students as she tried to guess which of the girls' lives she was about to destroy.

"Can I speak to Jamie Spader?" she asked the teacher, an older woman with a paint-stained shirt and slacks. The woman pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and frowned.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan here to speak to Ms. Spader." She raised an eyebrow. "I've just come from the principal's office." She watched as the woman nodded slowly and pointed at a small girl in the front row. The girl looked up from the drawing on her desk and stared at Brennan hesitantly before sliding out of her seat and standing up. Silently she followed Brennan out into the hallway. When the door closed behind her she looked up at Booth and Zack, a look of bewilderment crossing her features.

"What's this about?"

Booth folded his arms over his chest. "We need to talk to you about Keiley Darrow. We were told that you know her."

Jamie's eyes closed and she covered her mouth with her hands while nodding. "Have you found her?"

"About forty hours ago," Brennan said softly. She looked at Booth who nodded, getting the message. He turned around and walked into the office, spoke a few words to the secretary, and came back out.

"Why don't we go talk in the cafeteria?" he suggested, frowning at the girl. Jamie opened her eyes and wiped a tear away.

"Okay," she whispered, following Booth and Brennan down the hallway to the empty cafeteria doors. When they were seated at one of the long tables—Jamie on one side next to Brennan with Booth sitting directly opposite her next to Zack—Booth pulled out his paper and pen.

"My name is Special Agent Seeley Booth and this," he pointed at Zack, "is Dr. Zack Addy." He extended it across the table and Jamie took it in a surprisingly firm grip. When they released, Brennan turned in her seat to look at her.

"And I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan, Forensic Anthropologist for the Jeffersonian Institution."

Jamie's eyes widened ever so slightly at the title and a small gleam came into her eyes. "You're Temperance Brennan? The author?"

Brennan nodded slowly. "You know my books?"

"Know them?" Jamie gasped. "I love them!" She turned back to Booth. "And you—you're the guy mentioned at the beginning of the book! Keiley and I…" she trailed off, her face fell, and the gleam faded. "She loved your books."

It was silent for a long minute as a tear trickled down Jamie's face. Then, wiping the tear away almost angrily, she looked up at Brennan again. "Where did you find her?"

"We found her in a warehouse in D.C. It seems that she was there for about a week and a half. Do you know when she went missing?"

Jamie nodded sullenly. "Three weeks ago. I was the one that filed the missing persons report. After four days of not returning my calls and not coming to school I went over to her house and her parents said that they thought she'd run off to someone's house. They said she'd be back soon because she'd left her CD's there." She chuckled grimly. "Keiley never could go long without her music."

"Do you have any idea why she was in D.C.?" Brennan asked, frowning at the mention of Keiley's parents.

Jamie shrugged. "Sure. But it doesn't mean any of them are likely."

"Can you give me a few that might be?" Brennan looked up at Booth and he nodded for her to keep going at it.

"There's the idea that she just got tired of her parents and chose Washington because she guessed that there wouldn't be too many questions of a teenage girl wandering around—tourism, you know. But she would have told me if that was the case. It could also be that she was on her way to New York to see her aunt for the same reasons but D.C. is a far cry from the big apple. No." She shook her head and squinted her eyes in thought. "If she was in D.C. without telling me it was because of Jake."

"Jake?" Booth and Brennan's eyes met across the table. "Who's Jake?"

"Jake is…" Jamie sighed. "Jake was everything to Keiley. He was her first love and he was my replacement. Technically she wasn't allowed to date so they saw each other in secret, telling her parents that she was at my place while I had to sit at home with the phone in my lap in case her mom called. Jack wasn't necessarily what you would call faithful and when he tried to kiss me I told Keiley to cut it off or she was going to get hurt. She confronted Jack about it and he, of course, said that he had no feelings for me and 'of course' he didn't try to kiss me. She believed him over me. So what could I do? We didn't talk except in monosyllables at lunch but when she stopped showing up for school I called her again." She shrugged again. "Then Thanksgiving break came up and when she didn't answer my calls I got worried. They did a preliminary investigation but when her parents mentioned that they'd caught her getting drunk and running off with boys the investigation wound down." She laughed bitterly. "No one really cares about a girl like that now, do they?"

"What about Jake? Is he here at school?" Brennan was looking once again at Jamie.

"Yeah. He's in my next class, in fact."

"Was he here after or before break?"

"He left about three days early for his uncles and returned a few days after. He kept bragging about his uncle and his connections in whatever city he lives in." She frowned and another tear slipped from the corner of her eye. "Now that I think about it it's really obvious, isn't it?"

"What is Jake's last name?"

Jamie shook her head and thought for a second. "Leewood, maybe? Leward? I don't know, it's something like that."

Booth turned to Zack and whispered instructions to him. Nodding, Zack stood and excused himself and walked out of the cafeteria towards the office. Booth turned back to Jamie. "We're going to have to speak to Jake but could you stay available in case we need to ask you a few more questions?"

Jamie swallowed hard and nodded. Tears were flowing freely now and Booth could tell that reality was smacking her in the face even as they sat there.

"Dr. Brennan is going to stay with here with you, all right?" He looked up at Brennan and asked her with his eyes. Together, Jamie and Brennan nodded. Sighing, Booth stood. "When does the next class start?"

Jamie sniffed and wiped at her eyes, glancing quickly at her watch. "Any minute now."

"Okay. Thank you, Jamie. And I am sorry for your loss."

Jamie nodded and Booth turned around and walked away. Zack was standing in the hallway, a slip of pink paper in his hand, and just as the door began to close a sob escaped Jamie's throat followed by a cry of sorrow. Turning to Zack, Booth frowned. "This job never gets easy, Squint. Remember that."

Zack only nodded and followed Booth mutely through the hallway to the boy's classroom.

- - -

"Excuse me, do you have a Jake Leeward here?" Booth's eyes scanned the classroom, a frown on his face. They'd already made a connection with somebody here in the victim's school to D.C. and then from there to a personal link to the victim.

The teacher, a squat woman with tight curly brown hair and a frown on her face, looked up at him from her desk over the rim of her glasses. "Who's asking?" she asked in a nasally voice.

Booth rose an eyebrow and hesitated for only a moment before walking over to her and discreetly flashing her his badge. She stared at him for a long moment before nodding and standing up from her chair and pointing to a boy in the back of the room. Booth crooked a finger at him and then turned to point at the door. "Will you please come with me?"

The boy scowled up from the book that he was holding in his hands. He seemed to consider refusing but eventually closed his book and stood up, following Booth's finger out to the hallway where Zack was waiting. Closing the door, Booth turned and silently began walking down the hallway to the glass doors at the end. Opening them, he gestured for Jake to step outside, followed by Zack. When they were standing on the wooden walkway leading into the modular, Booth pulled out his badge and showed it to the boy.

"My name's Special Agent Seeley Booth. Are you Jacob Leeward?"

"Jake," the boy corrected, his scowl still in place. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to ask about your girlfriend Keiley Darrow. When was the last time that you saw her?" Booth put his badge away and replaced it with the girl's last school photo. Jake took a moment to appraise the picture before answering. Booth didn't have to look at the photo to see the girl's pale face framed with frizzy, shoulder-length brown-almost-black hair and upturned nose. She was by no means gorgeous but there was something in her dark eyes that gave her an air of dark beauty. Instead, Booth looked at the boy standing in front of him. Jacob Leeward: An eighteen-year-old, eleventh-grade boy whose father owned a tire company just down the street from the school. He was a baseball player with obvious upper-body strength and messy blonde hair. And there was something daunting in the blank stare that he gave the picture.

Handing the picture back to Booth, Jake shrugged. "Haven't seen her in a few weeks. Who's this guy?" He pointed at Zack.

"A doctor. What exactly was your relationship with Keiley?" Booth shot Zack a look that told him to keep quiet.

Jake shrugged again. "We went out a few times. Nothing serious."

"Did your relationship extend to physical intimacy?"

"A few times. Like I said: Nothing all that serious. Why are you asking me about Keiley? She isn't in any trouble, is she?"

"She's dead, Jake." Booth stared intently at the boy, gauging his reaction. He couldn't catch a look of surprise in the boy's face and something clicked in his head, telling him something was off.

"Where did you find her?"

"In Washington D.C. in an abandoned building. You don't look all that surprised, Jake. Do you know something?"

Once again the boy shrugged. "Only that she was a girl looking for a way out of her problems. She probably just went to D.C. with some guy and he sold her off to a buddy of his for a little dough. It isn't that unheard of, you know? Not even in Ohio."

"But it happened to your girlfriend. Aren't you the least bit upset?"

Shrug. "Sure, but why are you questioning me like this? Shouldn't you be in Washington looking for the creep who did this to her instead of dicking around in Ohio?"

Booth saw Zack's eyebrows rise into his hairline at the explicit. "We're just following a lead, Jake. What better place to start than her hometown. Is it true that you have an Uncle in D.C.?"

"Well, you're not going to get any DNA from me if that's what you're after. I'm not hiding anything so you can just go away." The boy's voice was rising several decibels by the minute and Booth watched his hands flex into fists.

"Are you always this angry, Jake, or is it just my charm?" Booth crossed his arms over his chest and smiled mockingly at the boy.

"Why you son of a—"

"What? I'm a son of a what, Jake? Are you really going to stand here and cuss an FBI agent out? Not too bright."

"Shut your mouth!" Jake yelled, waving his fist in the air.

"All I want you to do is answer a few simple questions. It's not that hard, is it?"

"I am going to hit you so hard…"

"Booth, you might want to stop," Zack said softly, his voice filled with tension.

"Shut up, you stupid…" Jake finished his sentence by whirling around and hitting Zack square in the jaw. Swiftly, Booth pulled out his gun and pointed it at the boy.

"Get down on the ground, Jake." He reached down with one hand to pull his handcuffs out of his pocket but the boy continued to rain down on Zack with a flurry of punches and kicks. Zack was curled up in a fetal position on the ground, having met a corner when he tried to back away. Booth was ready to holster his gun and pull the guy away himself when the glass doors swung open and Brennan stormed out of the modular, flinging her body at the boy and whirling around to pin him against the wall.

"That was a big mistake," she snarled in his ear as she gestured behind her at Booth for the handcuffs without moving her face. The kid whimpered as Brennan slapped the cuffs on, not checking beforehand to make sure that they were loose enough. Students were poking their heads of their classes by now and some of the bolder ones had actually stepped up to the glass doors.

Booth waved his hand at them in a gesture that told them to buzz off. "Nothing more to see here," he said, loud enough for them to hear through the doors. Reluctantly, they slipped back into their classrooms one by one. Turning to Zack, Booth knelt down on the ground and searched for his eyes. "Are you OK?"

Zack shuddered before nodding and looking up. His cheek was already swelling and his lip was split but to Booth's eye he seemed to be no worse for wear. Booth tried not to smile as he reached out and wiped away a tendril of blood. "Don't worry, Squint. Not only did you just help provide valuable information pertaining to the case but you just got your first dose of REAL field experience." He extended his arm and Zack reached up. Gripping his forearm, Booth heaved Zack up and onto his feet. Brennan was still pinning the kid to the wall when she turned her head to look Zack up and down.

"Are you all right, Zack? Is anything broken?" Her voice still had an underlying hint of rage in it but her tone, along with her face, held concern for her young protégé. Only when Zack nodded and moved his arms and legs as a demonstration did she turn back to the kid pinned to the wall. "You should be aware that you just made a huge mistake," she reiterated in hushed tones. The principle and two police officers were sprinting out of the building and Booth smiled as he watched her get all of her threats out before they got there. He hadn't ever heard her use so many explicative terms at one time and some of the combinations he had never expected to hear from her ever. All in all, he was smiling in amusement by the time that the principal arrived, heaving great puffs of air as he glared at Jake.

"What happened?" he asked gruffly.

"That guy assaulted me!" Jake cried, moving his head to gesture at Booth. "He was attacking me."

The principal raised his eyebrow in doubt as he looked at Booth who stood unscathed. Then his eyes moved to Zack who's face had swelled to nearly twice its size. "Then how did the other one get hurt?"

"They provoked me! I did nothing wrong, except for stand up for myself and last I checked that wasn't a crime!"

Booth shook his head. "No, but attacking someone is." He turned to one of the police officers. "I'm going to need to follow you down to the station. This whole thing kind of interrupted a line of interrogation on a murder case." He took out his badge and showed it to the officer who nodded.

"The squad cars should be here any minute now." And sure enough, the telltale sounds of sirens approaching permeated the air around them. Booth settled back against the wooden beam of the staircase as he watched Brennan's hair spin around her, taking even this moment to wonder at her beauty. And at the same time he mourned for the stupid soul who tried to attack any of the Squints.

Lionesses were among the most beautiful of creatures but touch its offspring and it'll come right back at'cha, beautiful or not, and rip your face off.

And probably do it with a smile.

* * *

**No one messes with the Squints and gets away with it. Thanks to Jamie, Kelsey, and Julie for letting me borrow your names, lives, and other personal aspects that I am using. I did ask permission so please don't yell at me if I broached upon certin things that you didn't want touched. But I personally think that this problem needs addressed and what better way to do it than in my story? Sorry, Keiley. (You know who you are.)**

**Press the button. Please. Don't make me beg. O.O If I get lots of reviews I might put a shirtless Booth in soon. Maybe even less...**


	9. PentUp Desires are Rarely Discreet

**Here it is. Chapter Nine. Sorry that it took a while for me to complete it. I was debating about the ending... But the debate is finally over. YEAH! And THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for the support I have received. So many reviews...it makes me feel happy... **

**Chapter rating: DEFINITELY a T. Pretty high on that scale, too. An eight out of ten where the others have been maybe a four or five. Rating for suggestive material and mild language  
Spoilers?: No but for all of you Hodgela lovers out there: WASN'T WEDNSDAY'S EPISODE THE GREATEST FOR THOSE TWO? I WAS SCREAMING MY FRIGGIN HEAD OFF!!!  
Shout-Outs: Again to Kelsey, Julie, Jamie and a few of the other people that I have borrowed for this story. Your characters are all bowing to you...  
Author's Note: Many of you have expressed concerns about Camille's being out of the way or not. Look closely. I allude to it. (Actually...I almost come out and say it. There is more for that witch, my pretties. Much more. MWAHAHAHAHA!) And this is also a treat for those of you who have been waiting for a little something-something.  
Disclaimer: Cloans on a loan. Every. Last. One. Except for the hotel manager...he's mine.

* * *

****Chapter Nine: Pent-Up Desires are Rarely Discreet**

"Why did you provoke him, Booth? You could have gotten Zack seriously injured."

Brennan glared at Booth from the opposite side of the metal table that they were sitting at, a taco halfway to her mouth. Her eyes were very angry.

"He's fine, Bones," Booth sighed, motioning to Zack who was filling up his cup with Diet Coke and glancing warily at a very large woman standing next to him who kept 'accidentally' bumping her purse into his rear end. "Besides: It got the kid into jail. We aren't going to end up misplacing him while we're here. He's our best connection to D.C. that we've found and is the first suspect on my list."

"But that doesn't mean that you have to go and get my people beat up by an adolescent kid." Brennan bit down on her taco and chewed furiously as her angry gaze relentlessly stayed locked on him.

"Not only that," Booth continued to defend himself, "I proved a theory. He has anger-management problems. That could cause problems for a possible girlfriend."

"That's not going to prove anything in court, Booth. Besides," Brennan picked up a piece of chicken that slid off of her taco and popped it into her mouth, "lots of kids like him have anger issues."

"But do they all flip like a light switch when you start asking questions? I was just asking him about his uncle and he started freaking out at me."

"His reaction is less common than most, I'll admit, but it doesn't mean that he killed that girl."

"Is that a gut feeling, Bones?" Booth grinned.

"No, it's just that we have no physical evidence to back it up. And other than your first impression we have no other evidence whatsoever that helps support this case. I'm reluctant to accept anything that is not supported by fact. You know that."

"Of course I do, Bones. How could I forget?" He winked at her discreetly as Zack slid into the seat between them. "Anyway, we can't interview Jake tonight until his lawyer gets here but we have an appointment tomorrow morning. So tonight I am going to call Camille and ask her to look into Robert Leeward and see if she can't keep him in D.C. for some kind of questioning or something. Other than that we have the night to spend doing a little bit of paperwork and just puttering around town." He gestured out the large windows next to them. "I suggest that first we need to see if we can get one of these restaurants in Washington. This salsa is phenomenal."

"Dr. Saroyan isn't going to like you calling her for work tonight, Booth," Zack mumbled through a bite of beans and rice.

Booth shook his head. "Well she didn't exactly call me at the best of times last night, either." He tried not to smile when Brennan made a sound that seemed to him an indication of a mutual grudge. "Besides, it's during the work week. I think she can bear prolonging her date with—what's his name again?"

"Chris O'Donnell:" Brennan said, a faint smile tugging at her face, "the second-richest contributor at the Jeffersonian."

"Angela calls him a classic dork," Zack agreed with a nod.

Booth grunted into his burrito as he noted the tone of rebuke in their voices. "When are they actually going to tie the knot?" he asked.

"In April," Brennan sighed, taking a bite of her taco.

"I hear that Mr. O'Donnell wanted it closer to now but she refused." Zack shook his head.

"Angela said that Dr. Saroyan claimed that she'd always wanted an April wedding but Angela herself doubts that fact. She says that Camille is just afraid of the consummation."

Zack snorted. Booth raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Brennan and Zack grinned broadly. "You've never met him, have you?" Brennan said. It wasn't a question, exactly. Booth shook his head. "Well if you do meet him then I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own."

Zack nodded. "Personally, though, I think the two deserve each other."

Booth stared at the two smiling Squints and was once amazed at the bitterness that the entire Squint Squad had for their boss. After she'd met Brennan and threatened to fire her they'd began to become downright cold towards her. He could kind of see where they were all coming from—they all gravitated around Brennan—but sometimes he pitied Camille for it. It couldn't make work easy. Of course… he smiled into his Coke. She could do something to _improve_ the situation by not making subtle threats when things weren't going exactly her way.

"When are we going down to the station to talk to Jake?" Brennan's question penetrated Booth's thoughts and he looked up.

"Uh…Not until tomorrow. His father called their attorney and he won't get out here until around noon so Jake is off-limits. I want to talk to Mr. or Mrs. Darrow a bit and see if they can't shed a little light on the subject of Keiely's disappearance. Although I don't think that we are going to get any better person to help us than Jamie." Booth shook his head. "She was really broken up about it, wasn't she?"

Brennan nodded. "She cried a lot."

"I doubt that you giving her a signed copy of your books would do anything to allay her sorrows, would it?" Booth offered a small smile.

"No, I don't think so. But I'm going to give her some anyway. She kept talking about how Keiely loved my books and…" Brennan blushed lightly. "It was embarrassing but…" she sighed and closed her eyes. "This job never gets easy, does it?"

Booth shook his head. Looking over at Zack, he raised his eyebrows. "That's rule number one, kid. Doesn't matter how many cases you have or how many people you encounter. It never gets any easier to rip the rug out from under people."

Zack nodded grimly. "I'll remember that."

Leaning back into his chair, Booth glanced at his watch. "We've got to get to Keiley's house. Her father should be getting home in half an hour."

Silently, Brennan and Zack collected their trash and stood, tossing them into a litter bin before following Booth out of the restaurant.

- - -

"That could have gone better," Booth grimaced, running a hand through his hair. They were sitting around another circular table, almost identical to the one that they sat at three hours ago, sipping milkshakes as the sound of a jukebox filtered through the air.

"Do they often throw food at you, Booth?" Zack asked, his fingers deftly picking at a noodle stuck to his sleeve.

Brennan shook her head, a tiny smile creeping into her eyes. "No but unfortunately we can't throw food back."

"That rule is there for a reason," Booth chuckled. "If Bones were allowed throwing food she wouldn't stop there. She would have probably gone for the skillet hanging on the hook in there. That is why she doesn't get a gun."

"Do I get a gun?" Zack looked up hopefully.

Booth's face took on a look that clearly voiced his "No way" before he even said it. "What is with Squints and guns?" he sighed. "You're all a danger to society."

"I wouldn't shoot just anybody…" Zack protested.

Booth gave him a look of indignation. "Don't even start asking, Zack. I'll hit you."

"If you hit him," Brennan mumbled, not looking up from the notes that Booth had taken, "I won't hesitate in breaking your arm."

"I see where your loyalties lie," Booth groaned.

"You saw what I did with a kid, Booth. If he had been an adult and we hadn't been at a school I probably would have broken _his_ arm." She looked up briefly and smiled. "And I agree with Zack. We need guns. What if Mrs. Darrow had decided that _she_ wanted to throw that skillet at us? Zack and I would have been bread."

"Toast, Bones," Booth corrected automatically. "And if she had picked up the pan I would have shot her myself. That's not your job. Your jobs are to stand there, sound smart, and to give the occasional intellectual boost."

"That's not fair, Booth," Zack said crossly.

"Welcome to my life, Zack," sighed Brennan.

"Hey, I'm not that bad." Booth stared at Brennan indignantly.

"You don't have to deal with yourself when you're in one of your funks though, Booth. Now shut up you two while I go over these notes."

"There's nothing to go over, Bones," Booth said crossly. "We didn't learn anything of use except that Mrs. Darrow doesn't like people suggesting that her parenting skills are less than pristine."

"We learned that Keiley wasn't allowed seeing any boys and that her parents had a big problem with Jake when they found out about him."

"That's nothing new. Doesn't really give the parents motive."

Booth and Brennan paused, looking discreetly over at Zack whose brow was furrowed in thought. Slowly, he looked up from his milkshake and cleared his throat.

"What do you think, Zack?" Brennan urged gently.

"It would give Keiley and Jake a reason to run away together to D.C. though, wouldn't it? Especially since at first glance he seems to be related to Robert Leeward."

Brennan smiled and nodded. "Great job." She looked over at Booth discreetly and he winked at her. They'd spoken earlier about how she needed to coach him on certain things and reward him when he did well. She'd complained that it made Zack seem like a puppy but had complied after a while.

"When is Cam calling back?" Booth asked. "You called her before we went to Keiley's house, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Brennan sighed. "I called her but she didn't answer. So I called Angela and she said that she would track Cam down. Said that she knew what restaurant she and Chris were headed to."

"Cam is going to have Angela's hide for doing that, isn't she?" Booth smiled.

Shrugging, Brennan took the last sip of her milkshake and stood up. "I don't know but I think that it is time we find a hotel and check in for the night? We need to do a little bit of research but we can't do that until Angela finds Cam. And even then we might have to wait until tomorrow." She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and looked at the clock on the wall.

Booth nodded in agreement. Looking up at a clock mounted on the wall, he smiled. "If we hurry up then maybe we can catch a movie."

"A movie, Booth?" Brennan raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Why are we seeing a movie when we are working?"

"_Technically_," Booth said slowly as he stood up from his seat, "we are supposed to be going home after work. Just because we are in Ohio doesn't mean that we can't kick back and relax." He grinned suggestively. "Do you remember Vegas, Bones?"

"Since we are speaking in technicalities: we never really kicked back. You just got beat up a bit. Anyway, I thought that I might work on my book a little bit."

Booth put his hands over his heart as if mortally wounded. "You would rather spend time working than spend time with your partner and your protégé?"

Brennan gave him a look and kept her mouth shut, clearly telling him that she didn't think that that remark warranted an answer.

"That's just mean, Bones," Booth sighed heavily. Looking down at Zack, he smiled. "You wouldn't mind going about town with me, would you, kid?"

"Actually," Zack spoke hesitantly, "I was considering reading tonight. I just got this fascinating book about culture in Guatemala and…"

Booth rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, tossing his cup into the trashcan. "Squints just don't know how to live their lives," he commented exasperatedly over his shoulder as he opened the door to the restaurant and stood, waiting for his companions to follow. Brennan and Zack looked at each other doubtfully before following him, disposing of their own cups on the way.

- - -

"Knock, knock."

Brennan looked up from her laptop in annoyance, glancing at the digital clock – it read 8:17 PM – and then up to the door of her hotel room. "What do you want, Booth?"

"Just open the door, Bones. I have something for you."

Rolling her eyes and groaning in irritation, Brennan unfolded her legs from under her, stood up and stretched the kinks from her back, and walked up the door, unlocking the deadbolt. Opening the door, she peeked out into the hallway. Booth grinned and held up a bag of take-out. "You forgot to get dinner, Bones, and so I ordered some food. It's Tai and the manager tells me that it is the best in town."

"You spoke to the hotel manager?" Brennan raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"He was at the front desk when I called down." Booth shook the bag and sent enticing smells Brennan's way. It was true: she'd been too engrossed in her writing and had completely forgotten to provide her body with the necessary sustenance. Opening the door wider, she beckoned for Booth to come in.

"What about Zack?" She closed the door behind Booth and turned to watch him.

"He ordered a pizza or something." Setting the bag of food down on the table beside the TV, Booth turned back and met Brennan's eyes with his own.

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him that if I didn't feed you then you would starve to death." Booth's voice was rough and he strode forward a few steps toward her. Taking her face in his hands, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her fiercely, smothering her automatic protests. After a few moments of surprise, Brennan responded in kind, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his kiss with equal ferocity until they had to pull away reluctantly for a breath.

"God," gasped Booth breathlessly. "I've been wanting to do that since we got that damned phone call."

Brennan nodded and raised her lips again to his, kissing him briefly before removing her arms and bypassing him as she walked over to the neglected bag of food. "Zack is next door, Booth," she sighed heavily as she reached into the bag, pulling out a box of noodles.

Booth came up behind her, putting his hands on her flat stomach as he pulled her back so that his lips could graze the line of her neck. "Zack is about as into that book as you are into yours. He probably would have starved as well if I hadn't pulled him back to the world of the living and suggested that he feed himself." He bit her earlobe and tugged gently, smiling to himself when she moaned softly and dropped her head back onto his shoulder.

"We really shouldn't be doing this, Booth," she whispered softly, trying to collect her thoughts. "What if he hears?"

"He won't."

"Pent-up desires, once released, often come out less than discreetly, Booth."

"Then we'll tell him that we were watching TV."

"I am not about to suggest to my coworker that I am watching porn!" Brennan gasped indignantly as Booth slipped a hand up to caress her arm, left bare by the T-shirt that she wore.

"We'll tell him that it's called 'Deadly Swarm.' Sounds the same if you listen to it."

"You watch porn, Booth?" Brennan mumbled.

"Nah," Booth chuckled into her skin. "I prefer the real deal."

"The porn industry is one of the most degrading factors towards women in today's society. Men often watch just to see women degraded and to feel the power that the male on the tape is experiencing." Brennan's voice was becoming thicker as Booth's lips moved over her shoulders as he nudged the fabric of her shirt aside.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled in agreement. "That's what I would have said." His hands were back to the hem of her shirt and he was lifting it slightly so that he could trace lazy lines around her navel. "You know, Bones, I was extremely close to doing this to you back at the school. There's just something so hot about seeing you kick someone's ass."

"I could kick your ass, Booth," Brennan gasped as she felt her shirt lifted a little higher. "Did you ever think of that?"

"If you were going to you would have already done it. Besides: we were interrupted earlier. I didn't like that so much." He stressed the statement by lifting her shirt the rest of the way and pulling it over he arms, which she lifted compliantly. Gripping her waist, Booth turned her body so that they were facing each other. Lowering his mouth to hers, he pressed up against her and held her to him with his hands on her back. When they pulled away, he smiled down at her suggestively. "Do you think that we can get away with anything with the Squint next door?"

Brennan blushed and lowered her face, rushing to come up with a coherent answer. "We're on the job, Booth," she finally whispered. "What if we get caught?"

"Simple: we won't." His hand moved to her hair which was tied up in a ponytail. Tugging on the hair tie, he pulled away and watched as her hair cascaded around her face. Sighing, he ran his fingers through her hair and lifted her face to his. Tenderly their lips met and their tongues began that slow, sensuous dance. Feeling her arms moving up his chest and around his neck, Booth felt once again the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. Her slim body moved closer and closer to his as she moved her fingers to his hair, massaging his scalp.

"This is wrong, Booth," she gasped when they broke their kiss for air. Booth nodded in agreement but his lips moved to that spot that he had found on her couch right behind her ear. Smiling as she arched her body against him and hissed in a sharp breath of air, he nipped at the sensitive spot. "And that's not fair."

"All's fair in love and war, Bones," he responded slowly as his hand moved from her waist to his pocket. Drawing out his cell phone, he hit and pressed the off button. Smiling slyly at her, he winked. "No more pesky phone calls to interrupt a moment."

Brennan felt a smile spreading across her own lips in response as she slipped from his arms to walk over to the TV. Grabbing her cell phone from its position on top of the set, she too turned it off. Grabbing the plastic bag that sat abandoned on the counter, she moved over to the bed and sat down cross-legged before closing her laptop and slipping it onto the floor. "I'm starving, Booth," she complained when he raised his eyebrows and frowned at her actions. "I haven't eaten a solid meal since that Chipotle's place. And this stuff smells almost as good as Sid's stuff does."

Smiling at the emphatic way that she was digging through the bag looking for the best stuff, Booth moved to sit down next to her. As she spread out the food around them he broke out the chopsticks and produced a TV guide that he had requested down at the front desk. Staring at it with concentration for a few minutes, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television, switching the channel to the Science Fiction channel. Brennan, done sorting the food, looked up at the TV and a laugh of disbelief slipped through her lips.

"The Twilight Zone, Booth? You watch this show too?"

Booth looked over at her in surprise. "Of course. Have you ever seen it?"

A broad grin slid across her face. "It was the only TV show that I ever watched religiously when I still had my television. I've loved these since I was a kid."

"Wow," Booth grinned back at her. "One more thing I didn't know about the enigmatic Temperance Brennan. And one more thing we have in common."

"What do you mean one more thing?" Brennan asked, poking him with her chopsticks. "It's the only thing I'd ever have in common with a guy as annoying, arrogant, and pig-headed as you. To suggest otherwise would be insulting to me."

"Was that a joke, Bones?" Booth asked, trying to keep a straight face. When she raised her eyebrows and stared at him with an equally straight face, it became more and more difficult before Booth broke down in laughter. Brennan smiled and reached into a container filled with pork. As she chewed, Booth surveyed the meticulous spreading of the food. Finally deciding on noodles, he took a large bite and pointed at the TV screen with his chop sticks. "Actually," he said through a mouthful, "I turned this on because the next show on would be the beginning of an X-File marathon of the sixth season and on. Starting us off is the movie."

Brennan let out a strangled laugh. "I've never seen any of them, Booth. I don't think that I can start out with the sixth year—"

Booth shook his had dismissively. "Naw. The movie was made not only to reward faithful viewers but to welcome new ones so you don't have to have seen any of the show to understand it."

"Did you plan that, Booth?" Brennan looked up with amused speculation. He just laughed and shrugged elusively, trying to look as if he were trying not to look guilty. Brennan chuckled and scooped a large bite of chicken out of the container. Chewing thoughtfully, she leaned back on the bed and watched the TV screen. "I haven't seen this episode before."

"What?" Booth gave her an indignant look. "This is a classic. You see, this kid has an ability that whenever he's angry at someone or something he can send them away to the 'field.' He's taken away cars, cities, and now this guy is ticking him off."

Brennan raised an eyebrow and watched the kid on screen tell the man how bad he was. When he turned into a jack-in-the-box, she smiled softly. "That's why I loved this show. It always has that little surprise to it even though, logically, you should have been able to predict the ending."

"Wow. You analyzed TV shows when you were a kid?"

"No," Brennan poked him with a chopstick. "But looking back I think that may have been some of the intrigue."

"That's just weird, Bones. Ouch!" he yelped as she whacked him on the knuckles. Giving her an outraged frown, he swiftly moved the cartons of food from the bed and onto the end table and grasped her by the wrists in the same movement. Flipping her on the bed so that he was poised above her, he pinned her down.

"What are you doing?" Brennan gasped through her laughter. "Get off of me you big—"

He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers and trapping her even further to the bed. She moaned softly as her toes curled inside her socks. When he pulled away, he grinned at her slyly. "You shouldn't have hit me, Bones," he said softly, his voice hoarse. She tried to move but he gripped her wrists tighter and moved his knees to either side of her waist. "Actually, you hit me three times so I get two more…" he leaned down again and met her mouth with his, gently moving his tongue over hers. Teasing her lower lip between his teeth, he tugged gently, feeling heat course through him when she groaned quietly. He definitely liked these little noises from her. And he wondered what other noises she could make and what he had to do to hear them.

Moving her hands above her head, he positioned them so that he held both her wrists in only one of his hands. He ran his newly free hand down her neck and between her breasts, listening to the hiss of air as she arched up against him. Continuing the trial, he made his way to the hem of her shirt and down her jeans a little bit until he reached the area where her legs joined. She squirmed as his fingers applied light pressure through the fabric, teasing her. Moving his lips from hers he pressed them against the cord of her neck and peppered them down to the top of her shirt. "Temperance?" his voice was lower and Brennan felt something in the pit of her stomach uncoil, not just at the sound of her name, but also at the way he said it, making it feel like a caress against her sensitive skin.

"What?" She was appalled to hear her voice sounding so close to a whimper.

"How thick do you think those walls are?" His hand had moved from between her legs to the hem of her shirt and he seemed to be gravitation around the decision of whether or not to pull it over her head.

"About five inches, maybe."

"Do you think that Zack will hear us?" His lips were back on her neck and when the pressed against that place that he knew was so sensitive, she gasped for air. Tugging her wrist from his hand, she grabbed his shoulders and shifted her legs so she was able to roll them over on the bed, giving her the advantage of being on top.

"Just shut up, Seeley," she whispered roughly as they kissed more insistently, both feeling the evidence of the other's arousal. "And help me get your damned shirt off."

Booth chuckled against her lips but was unable to help her as his hands were already quite busy with removing her shirt. After a few frenzied minutes of kisses and curses over buttons, Brennan successfully tugged Booth's shirt over his head. Taking advantage of the moment Booth was able to get her shirt off as well. Then, sitting up on the bed and putting her on his lap, he pressed his chest to hers, skin to skin, the only obstruction between them being her purple laced bra. Taking note of the article of clothing that he had never suspected Brennan would indulge in, Booth chuckled into her lips and raised his hands to cup her breasts.

"Aren't these a bit frivolous?" he questioned when the surfaced for air.

"I wear them all the time," Brennan gasped as he applied pressure to her breasts. "You've just never gotten to see them before now…"

"Stupid," Booth mumbled as he moved his mouth from hers and to the creamy flesh above her bra. She gasped and moved her hands into his hair while muttering an agreement.

"Dr. Brennan?"

Booth and Brennan halted simultaneously, holding their breaths and hoping that what they'd just heard was in their imaginations. No such luck.

"Dr. Brennan? Angela is on my cell phone asking for you. She says your phone is off." Booth looked up at Brennan and mouthed the name. 'Zack.'

Clearing her throat, Brennan looked toward the door. "I'll be right there." And with one more angry look at Booth, she snatched her discarded shirt from the floor and shoved it on, handing Booth his before walking toward the door, silently voicing a string of explicates in every language she knew. And that was a considerable amount.

* * *

**Nee-hee-hee. I can almost hear the screams of protests and the mimicking of Brennan's oh-so-bad vocabulary. But did you really think that I was going to let them consumate in a HOTEL? Pshaw. Yeah right. Now skeet-skeet my lovlies to press the little button. The more reviewes, the sooner that the rest of Booth's clothing comes off. **

**And I did keep my promise to take his shirt off, didn't I? I even got Brennan's off as a special treat...**

**And doesn't it just make you want to smash you cell phone against the wall?**


End file.
